


Salvage Operation

by SBG



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Smarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-11-18
Updated: 2003-11-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10344828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBG/pseuds/SBG
Summary: Spoilers: "Scorched Earth", "The Other Side", "FiaD", "Learning Curve",probably moreSummary: Jack and Daniel learn about the changes and constants in theirfriendship, with the help of some pretty nasty people and circumstances.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

“Why does this always happen? No, let me rephrase that. Why does this always happen when I end up stuck with _you_?” 

“Stuck with me? I’m going to try really hard to disregard that.” 

“Why? It’s true. Put me with Teal’c – sunshine and roses. With Carter – sunshine and…boredom. Both of which are about two hundred percent more acceptable than our current situation.” 

“For the record, I could say the exact same thing about you. Archaeology was never hazardous to my health until I met you. And besides, oh great team leader, who decides the breakdown of the groups? Whose fault is it, really?” 

“What?!” 

“You heard me.” 

“Shut up, Daniel, and find something to get me out of here!” Jack growled into the upside down, sullen face glaring at him. 

“Do I really have to remind you I can move about three feet in any given direction and that there’s nothing within my reach to help you?” Daniel muttered back, and Jack swore he heard the archaeologist mumble something about how blood in the brain was supposed to increase its function. 

He had known something like this was going to happen about a millisecond before it actually had, and was too slow to prevent Daniel from touching what he had no business touching. The space between them had been enough to keep them apart and subsequently suffer differing means of capture. He was quite sure he’d gotten the short end of the stick. 

Groaning in frustration, Jack hit his radio again. “Carter, Teal’c, do you copy?” 

“I really don’t think they can…” Daniel prudently trailed off at Jack’s intense, angry glower.  

Yeah, he knew radio contact was down, out, blocked or something. Glancing at his watch, Jack wondered if his head would explode from the pressure before Carter and Teal’c realized there was something amiss. They weren’t due to officially check in for another forty-five minutes, and he’d already been swinging by one leg for about an hour. He was just thoroughly pissed and needed to do something to keep his mind from wandering onto homicidal paths. He stared at his P90 lying uselessly forlorn at the entrance of the temple, then flicked his gaze to the sidearm at his…head. At Daniel’s feet but just out of reach. 

“Daniel?” 

“Jack?” 

“Do you happen to have your sidearm?” 

“Of course I do.” 

“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you try and shoot at this rope thing to get me down? Then I can get you out of your box.” Had it really taken him an _hour_ to think of that? 

“Uh…I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” 

“And why not?” 

“I’m in a box, Jack. Invisible shield type of thing. If I can’t simply crawl out, why would a bullet pass through it?” 

Crap. Daniel was right, of course. Blood shirruped aggravatingly in his ears and he pulled his arms against gravity that seemed far too strong to rub at them, surprised when they didn’t come away covered in red. Surely vital fluids would start leaking out of his cranial orifices soon. Damnit to hell, why couldn’t Carter just finish up early for once? Would it be too much to ask? Like that would _ever_ happen. Jack sighed. 

“Had any luck figuring out why this happened? Other than you touching things you shouldn’t have?” he asked, not feeling an ounce of regret as Daniel cast him a reproachful look. 

“I didn’t actually touch anything, Jack,” the archaeologist wearily said. “Not to place blame here but I had stopped when you ran into me and pushed me onto it.” 

“I did not! If I had done that, wouldn’t I be in there with you?” His words were petulant and sophomoric, a grown up ‘nuh-uh’. 

“Judging from the force with which my face impacted the wall, I’d say chances are good you bounced back a bit,” Daniel snapped, rubbing an upside down hand on his upside down cheekbone. 

This is what they had been reduced to over the years – snaggy, ill-tempered arguments. Jack suddenly wanted to turn back time, erase the irritation that inherently came whenever he was around Daniel and replace it with the camaraderie he was positive they had had at one point. The problem with that idea was he had no clue when it had gone wrong between them. Oh, he still liked Daniel, still considered him a friend. But there was always that underlying feeling of wrongness and withdrawal he didn’t know how to fix. Worse, he didn’t know if he wanted to. It was easier to accept the new status quo, acknowledge he and his teammate were on differing sides on every subject. Maintain a tolerance of sorts, nothing more, nothing less. It was the nothing less that bothered him every time. 

“Back to the question,” Jack harped, refusing to concede Daniel was right once again. If the archaeologist hadn’t looked as though he were about to touch something dangerous, _he_ never would have overreacted. “Ideas? Helpful hints?” 

Daniel stared up at him for long moments, expression bordering both on extreme dislike and extreme frustration. And he knew; Jack knew they _had_ to fix this. That look made his friend look like his enemy. Without knowing how their relationship had become so skewed, though, the repairs would probably be lengthy and painful. ‘Nothing less’ loomed over his head like an ogre, and he was ashamed it had taken him so long to realize Daniel’s friendship was important enough to fight for. More than important enough. Trying to make his expression contrite, Jack wondered how successful he could possibly be when his face was beet red and flipped over from the other man’s perspective. To his relief, a bit of the archaeologist’s tension seemed to diminish. 

“I hate to say it, but no. This place is definitely alien, though I’d venture a guess this building isn’t a temple like I’d first thought,” Daniel softly said, shifting uncomfortably in his small enclosure. 

“What gave it away – the box cage or the swinging upside down by one leg thing?” 

Damn. That came out so much more harshly than he’d intended. Jack cautiously watched Daniel’s reaction, hoping he hadn’t hung himself even worse. No pun intended. 

“Actually, it was the lack of any type of statuary or altar that usually go hand in hand with religion, but now that you mention it…” Daniel looked doleful as he banged a fist against his nearly invisible trap, wincing a little. “The only other assumption we can make is that whomever constructed these things is fairly advanced. Your knife didn’t do a thing to the cord and this thing reminds me of Aris Boch.” 

As Daniel spoke, Jack had a terrible thought. He tried to dismiss it but it kept at him like a nagging wife refusing to be ignored. Nervously, he checked his watch and bit back the urge to try and hail Carter and Teal’c again. Closing his eyes, he saw them compromised just as he and Daniel were, or worse. No. Stupid to think like that. It served no purpose but to make his agitation mount, and he had a feeling being calm, cool and collected was going to be essential. Soon. 

“Do you suppose these…people, for lack of a better term…are hunters of some sort, and if so, when do you think they’re going to check their traps again?” Jack asked, hating to vocalize the thought. 

“Your guess is as good as mine, though I hope it’s after Sam and Teal’c come for us.” 

“Yeah.” 

Mentally reviewing their track record, Jack figured they were pretty well screwed. Some nice, peaceful alien race wouldn’t exactly be inclined to set booby traps. All he could do was hope it was a planet-bound type of group, not a spread-mayhem-throughout-the-galaxy type of group. Cringing at the jinx, he slapped his forehead. Hand slightly deadened from its awkward position, it hit him with more force than he’d planned and he grunted. 

“Careful there,” Daniel said laughingly. 

“Shut up,” Jack good-naturedly retorted. “Did I ask for your input?” 

This. This was more like how it was supposed to be between him and Daniel. Why couldn’t they seem to maintain this for longer than a few lousy minutes? Little interludes of how it used to be sprang up intermittently, coming less and less frequently and with less and less power to remind. He knew the guilt was not his alone to shoulder but would be damn sure not to let that fact impede the reconstruction. Fixing. Repairs. Reconstruction. Jack huffed out an impatient breath, irritated he’d been thinking of the friendship as though it were a hole in the wall needing a quick patch job. Hell, that was probably part of the problem right there. 

“Do you ever?” Daniel asked. 

Did he ever? Though the younger man didn’t sound as though it were a serious question, Jack couldn’t deny the validity. There had been a time when each member of SG1 held equal positions in regards to influencing a final decision. He honestly couldn’t say that was the truth any longer. He was the team leader, it fell on him to make the ultimate call in every situation. But somewhere, somewhen, he had stopped listening to his team. The Eurondan and Enkaren situations instantly came to mind as the most obvious examples, but there had been more. Too many to name or think about. Okay, so his responsibility in the state of his team was now in question, not just his relationship with Daniel. First things first. Work on the interpersonal before moving to the bigger picture. 

“Not as often as I should,” Jack muttered. 

“What?” 

“Carter and Teal’c getting here soon would be good, I said.” 

“Oh…right.” Daniel looked baffled. And cramped. “Any minute now, I’m sure.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Head throbbing again, Jack closed his eyes and tried not to move. The swaying was making him nauseous. As the pendulum effect slowed, he couldn’t help but think his own comfort wasn’t the only thing hanging in the balance. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Daniel relied heavily on intuition in both his job and his daily life; for the most part, it served him well. Unfortunately, intuition was failing when it came to understanding one Jack O’Neill. He remembered very clearly becoming friends with Jack, but he couldn’t recall when that friendship had started to erode. And it had eroded over the years, crumbled away after too many strong winds, floods, rainstorms…whatever. The man had gone from a pretty even temperament to swinging irrationally from resigned apathy to cranky, ill nature. Frankly, Daniel didn’t quite know what to expect every time he attempted conversation. So he stopped attempting. 

Today was the perfect example. He should have known something like this was going to happen. Jack was right on that count – trouble was a raging bull and either he or his upside down companion must have a red flag sewn on his ass. Daniel flipped up his watch guard, willing time to have sped up; his legs were getting twitchy. Sighing, he realized there was still a good half an hour before Sam and Teal’c were to check in, and chances are at least an hour for them to make it to his and Jack’s unexpected prison. He was selfishly grateful he wasn’t the one who’d ended up swinging from the rope. 

“Screw this. There has got to be a way down from here!” Jack growled, face a deep maroon. “My head can’t take it anymore.” 

“Jack…” 

“Daniel, shut up and help me think of something.” 

“We’ve tried everything we can, given our limited freedom,” Daniel snapped back, stung at the harsh command. 

He rocked back slightly as Jack opened his eyes and glowered down at him. Well, apparently Mr. Hyde was putting in another appearance. Sighing, Daniel tried to dismiss the other man’s caustic words as resultant from the undoubtedly uncomfortable position Jack was in. Too often lately, he knew he was guilty of fighting fire with fire when it came to dealing with the ever-changing moods of his friend, and that obviously wasn’t a great method. He couldn’t blame the other man for the whole of their faltering friendship. Instead of reacting negatively or not reacting at all, Daniel knew he had to try to change himself before he could have any hope at all of salvaging even a working relationship with Jack. 

“There’s always something else to try.” 

“Sure, Jack. Let me just start digging a hole in the ground and tunnel beneath this energy barrier. That’ll work.” 

Sadly, changing himself was easier said than done. And clearly Jack wasn’t the only one with a flighty personality. If Daniel had to describe to anyone exactly what was going through his mind and body, he’d have to equate it to his unpleasant experiences with Sha’re when she was suffering PMS. Gone was his loving, beautiful wife. In her stead, a furiously bitter hag, of whom he was not embarrassed to admit being afraid. Extremely afraid. It had taken him four months to figure out a remedy – saying yes to everything, no matter how ridiculous. He just had to find a similar remedy for Jack, and for himself. Right. It was safe to say neither of them could possibly become yes men with each other. 

“Damnit, Daniel. Stop being so sarcastic. It doesn’t suit you and it’s extremely unattractive and my fucking head is going to fucking explode!” 

O-okay. That was a little bit of the pot calling the kettle, but Daniel wisely let it pass because of the extenuating circumstances. However, it was very apparent to him the only way out of the situation was to wait. And wait and wait. He nervously fingered his watch again. Damnit. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. I just don’t know what you want me to say. There is no way out of this, bar you chewing your leg off. Correct me if I’m wrong in thinking that’s not something you want to do,” Daniel tiredly said, bracing for the rebuttal by scooting back an inch. Colliding with the invisible force penning him in, he shuddered at the now familiar but still painful tingling shooting needles into his shoulders. “Augh, damnit.” 

“What?” Jack asked. 

Daniel looked up at Jack’s soft question as he jerked away from the wall, unsurprised to see the other man’s expression was as soft as his voice. If only that happened more often. He wiped the grimace off his face and tried to school his features to reassuring. 

“Every time I touch the shield, I get a small shock.” 

“How small? Or should I say how big?” 

“Ever touched an electrified fence? Like that.” 

“Ooh, ouch,” Jack sympathized with an answering grimace, which hardened into suspicion. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me every time I ordered you to try and get out of there you went ahead and touched it anyway?” 

“Well, you weren’t exactly open to my opinion at the time, Jack. Besides, you had more important things on your mind,” Daniel ruefully admitted, giving a tiny smile to try and brush it off as not a big deal. 

“Jeez, Daniel. You should have said something! My own situation is no more important than yours.” 

Genuine surprise flooded him at the statement, followed closely by extreme shame. Yes, Jack had been…crankier than usual lately, but one thing he never did was truly put his own concerns before others’. Unbidden thoughts of some of Jack’s command decisions popped into his head. Euronda. The Enkarens. Merrin. No, Daniel corrected before the ill thoughts could take seed. Those instances weren’t Jack looking out for number one at all, even if it sometimes appeared that way in his memory. Angry with himself for even thinking it, he scowled and had to look away from his friend. 

“You don’t believe that?” Jack whispered, clearly wounded and taken aback. 

Damn. Jack had seen his face and misinterpreted the expression. Way to go, Daniel. Instantly turning his face back up, he twitched at the stark hurt on Jack’s features, readable despite the awkward positioning and the discomfort that went with it. If he could kick himself, he would. 

“Yes, I believe that, Jack. I have to be honest, though, it sometimes doesn’t seem that way. At least not at first.” 

Honesty was the best policy? Not always, but Daniel knew if they didn’t start actually voicing insecurities and thoughts, he and Jack would always be on a slippery slope. And he knew a person could only struggle on that slope for so long before giving up and sliding right down it into the muck. With a start, he realized how desperately he didn’t want to land in the muck when it came to his friendship with Jack. 

“That’s really nice, Daniel.” 

“No, I didn’t mean…” Daniel trailed off, suddenly at a loss as to how to explain what he did mean without causing further misunderstanding and hurt. He could almost feel the rift between them getting bigger, even though they were only four or so feet apart. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he cleared his throat. “It’s not you. People tend to leap to their own conclusions in any given circumstance, Jack, and I’ve been guilty plenty of times.” 

“What does that mean, exactly?” 

“It means that…I don’t know what it means.” 

Cowardice, plain and simple. Daniel didn’t want to go through all of their dirty laundry at the moment, a little afraid at the reaction he might garner if he gave Jack the examples he was looking for. They needed some distance from this latest grand adventure, some time to settle frazzled nerves. That, and there was no place to escape to if things got too ugly here. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he huffed a short laugh. He really was an idiot; planning escape routes wasn’t exactly the best way to foster the ‘regaining the friendship’ campaign. 

“Look, Jack…” 

“No, forget it.” 

“Jack, I don’t think we should forget it,” Daniel argued, waving his hand around at the invisible box and the rope the other man was swaying from. “What else are we going to do?” 

“You could try that digging thing you mentioned.” 

The conversation was apparently over, the room silent except for an odd hissing noise. Jack closed his eyes, folded his arms painfully across his chest and did an amazing impression of a sleeping bat. To add to Daniel’s own misery, his left calf tightened in an excruciating charley horse. Rubbing at it vigorously, he tried to contain any indication of hurting. The last thing he needed was for Jack to think he was using less than straight up means to start talking again. As the muscle cramping eased up, he became aware his self-ministration had made him break out in a fine sweat. Crinkling his eyebrows, Daniel thought he’d better start working out more, if such a small amount of exertion made him overheat. 

And become breathless. Damn, he was huffing like a chain smoker trying to tackle two flights of stairs. Wiping at his upper lip and rubbing the moisture off on his pant leg, Daniel frowned at how lightheaded he was beginning to feel. This was not normal overexertion. It was definitely getting warmer in his cubicle, and each breath seemed to bring in less oxygen. Eyes snapping up to Jack, he could feel his panic increasing and he tried to tame it. Hyperventilating would be a Bad Thing. Oh, yes, it would. 

“Jack, I think I…have a…problem here,” he gasped, alarmed at how much effort it took to get the words out. Vision blurring and twisting, Daniel couldn’t be sure if his friend was swaying somewhat erratically or if his eyes were playing a trick on him. “Jack?” 

“Problem here, too,” Jack called back, grunting as his body impacted solidly with the wall. Swaying erratically it was, then. “Goddamn thing seems to have a mind of its…ugh…own. What’s your situation?” 

“Warm. Can’t…breathe.” 

“Shit.” 

“You can…say that again.” 

“Stop talking. Take short, even breaths, if you can,” Jack coached, twisting his body so he was facing Daniel. “Look at me, Daniel. Focus.” 

Uh oh. That was Jack’s alarmed voice. Daniel wished he could see the other man, but his vision was now virtually useless, gray fuzz occupying the entire field. Went nicely with the static in his ears, humming, buzzing and crackling like a bad AM radio station. Instinctively bringing his hands up to his shirt collar, he clawed at it as though it were choking him. 

“Daniel! Daniel, stay with me!” 

Oh, how he wished he could comply with that particular order. His arms dropped, knuckles grazing on the cold floor, and he was falling. Daniel knew it was going to hurt and tried to brace himself as he thudded into the shield. The electric surge lasted a fraction of a second, then he was blessed by darkness. 

~~~~~~~~ 

He wondered if anyone had got the license plate numbers of the truck that had run over him. Various body parts ached and cried out for immediate attention, each one more vocally than the last. Shifting his position from an unnatural, face down and twisted sprawl, Jack rolled over, regretting the action a second later when sharp pain cracked through the back of his head. Groaning, he turned his head and lifted a heavy hand to massage a good-sized lump. Bits and pieces of just how that had happened started to assault his memory. Better late than never, he realized he was no longer elevated off the floor by one leg, the last thing he remembered was swinging violently and impacting with the wall while attempting to… A sick feeling overcame him as the memories formed one terrible image. 

“Daniel?” Jack croaked pathetically, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. If Daniel was with him here, wherever here was, the archaeologist would have been at his side at the first signs of awareness. Of course, he also knew Daniel could still be unconscious. Please, just unconscious. Nothing worse. Vivid blue eyes, wide with distress, haunted him. Snapping his own eyes open, he called again, “Daniel?” 

Silence. Slate gray dinginess encompassed his entire range of vision. A wall, he realized, different from the one he’d collided with. Smoother. Jack cautiously shifted to his hands and knees, muscles and joints creaking in unison. Quickly scanning his surroundings, he discovered he was very much alone, and in a shallow, boxy cell of sorts. Three walls made of large stone blocks, and one that appeared completely open. He wouldn’t bet money it truly was. Bright, fluorescent light glared down on him, incongruous with the primitively constructed walls. Nothing else. No bed, no sink, no rubbish on the floor. And no Daniel. His friend’s absence was ominously conspicuous, sending a surge of dread through his mind. Stomach full of icy lead, he shakily crawled toward the open wall. 

Expecting an invisible barrier to prevent his exit, Jack was stunned when he easily left the alcove. Once out, he clambered to his feet and managed a couple of stumbling steps. Vertigo made the going rough, slightly blurred vision not lending a hand either. Carefully probing the goose egg on his head, Jack cringed and guessed he had at least a minor concussion. Thinking around the headache was proving difficult, though a multitude of questions clamored away despite the pain. Closing his eyes and willing his head to stop hurting for just a minute, he heard soft sounds floating toward him – water dripping, something rustling and a low buzz. Instinct made him open his eyes and aim his body the direction of the noises, taking in as much information as he could while proceeding. 

Glancing ahead, he realized he was in a wide hallway. The walls he’d thought were stone before looked…wrong, too smooth. He dismissed that as irrelevant and noted every five feet or so, a doorway like the one forming an exit to his alcove dotted both sides of the corridor, twelve on each side. Jack turned his head back the direction he’d come from, finding the same scenario there as well, briefly wondering if he should turn around and check those cells before investigating the noise. Energy flagging, he decided to skip them and press forward; when he was feeling better he could come back. He flicked his gaze to the ceiling, which was low, a narrow beam of intensely white light running down the center of it. Frowning, he started walking again. Staggering, actually. His legs were beginning to feel vaguely mulish and rubbery, apparently about ready to refuse to operate. 

His need for information kept him going. He needed some clue as to his new location, how he’d got there, and what happened to Daniel, Carter and Teal’c. He didn’t know whether he should really want to find any of his team members here or not. After a moment’s consideration, Jack revised that thought. Daniel could be here, and alive. Hope, no matter how slim, was still hope. 

Each doorway he passed earned a swift perusal of the interior, and each cell was thankfully yet frustratingly empty. After passing the fifth such recess, Jack’s legs finally gave up, demanding he rest. Depositing himself in an awkward heap, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes again. His mind wouldn’t permit the small reprieve, instantly noting the wall behind his shoulders was strangely warm and vibrating slightly. Sighing, he ran a hand down its surface and determined it was metal, not stone. He shivered despite the odd warmth emanating from it, wrapping his arms around his bare chest. Bare? Snapping his eyes open with alarm, he realized he was practically naked, clothed only in loose fitting drawstring pants made of coarse brown cloth. Damn, that should have been the first thing he noticed. 

The constant shimmy of the wall could also be felt through the floor, and he could think of only one cause for it. He couldn’t be absolutely certain, but he was pretty damn sure he was in some type of moving vehicle. Possibly taking him away from all three of his teammates. Shit. Suddenly inspired to continue his slow but sure exploration, Jack rubbed at his temples and climbed to his feet. Running his left hand along the wall for balance, he concentrated on the sounds while he walked. Still surreptitiously checking the cells as he stumbled by, he could tell he was approaching a large open space, the rustling noises seeming to echo unnaturally. Frowning, he was so intent on reaching the end of the hall he almost walked right by it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flesh colored shape lying crumpled in a cell on the opposite side. It snared his attention, and he easily identified it as a body. An almost completely naked, face down, and definitely human body. Heart freezing, Jack automatically pushed away from the wall and staggered toward the unmoving person. It wasn’t going to be Daniel or Carter, just some other poor slob, stuck God knew where like him. Even as he thought that, he knew he was deluding himself. Before he’d come within five feet of the figure, he knew who it was. He could see an appendectomy scar on the partially twisted torso. 

Oh, God. Daniel. 

Jack swore he’d take back every rude comment he’d made to the archaeologist if only he were alive. Had to be. Aliens wouldn’t have any reason to bring him here if he were dead, right? Fervently needing that to be true, he fell to his knees beside the still form, ignoring the resulting pain shooting up to his hips. Reaching his hands out to flip his friend over, he drew back in sudden hesitation. He didn’t want proof of death, didn’t know if he could take that.  No, Daniel wasn’t dead. They still needed to work on some things; the younger man knew that and wouldn’t let a little thing like death get in the way. Therefore, Daniel wasn’t dead. Reassured by his illogic, he gently laid one hand on a bare shoulder and trembled his other to rest just below Daniel’s jaw line. 

The chill of the flesh beneath his fingertips almost made him retract his hands, did make him hunch over as fear contracted the muscles of his stomach lining. Cold seeping into his being as if through osmosis, Jack fumbled for a pulse and held his breath. Transubstantiating his muscles into lumps of rigidity, the cold was everywhere. He couldn’t find a beat. Not even a slight fluttering. Panicking, he manhandled Daniel onto his back and shook him. 

“Daniel! Daniel, come on!” Jack pleaded, aware of hysteria inhabiting him with unusual vigor. 

Calm. He needed to calm down. Daniel was NOT dead. Not even close. _He_ was just a little high strung. Replacing his hand on the archaeologist’s neck, Jack willed a pulse to be there and slowed his own breathing as if that would somehow infuse life into his friend. Slowed it to the point he stopped, sagging when he still couldn’t find life. No, there. He swore he saw the chest rise and fall, if only minutely. Giving up on the carotid artery, he snatched up Daniel’s right arm and groped the wrist. 

And sagged again, sucking in a great lungful of air. His head throbbed with the resurgence of blood into it, but he didn’t care. Daniel was alive. Jack allowed himself a second of intense relief, running both his hands through gritty hair before he unconsciously switched the action into rubbing Daniel’s shoulders. He made a quick assessment of the still man, frowning at the very abbreviated skivvies made of the same rough fabric as his own pants. That would account for the coolness, but he didn’t like that Daniel was so scantily clad. There didn’t appear to be anything outwardly wrong with the younger man, a fact made less soothing by the frightening pallor. He ran his hands along limp arms, searched the head for signs of trauma. Nothing. Letting out a relieved breath, he moved to the legs. 

Hands sliding over Daniel’s thighs and down his calves, Jack scowled when his left bumped into something hard at the right heel. Lifting the limb gingerly, he bent down to get a closer look. Damn. Attached by means he really didn’t want to think about was a small cream-colored plastic box. On the front of it, a small orange light glowed. Setting Daniel’s leg back on the ground, he hastily yanked up his own pant leg and discovered an identical device. Taking into consideration the vaguely prison-like setting, he could only guess the things were tags of some sort. Like the kind a flight risk ex-convict had to wear while on parole. Correct assumption or not, he didn’t like the implications that came with it. 

Shaking his head, he continued checking Daniel over, patting down his chest and torso. He halted when he noticed several tiny, almost imperceptible puncture wounds around the navel. Instantly reviewing the rest of Daniel’s body again, Jack was disturbed to find similar marks in assorted locations – one on each thigh and bicep, one over his sternum, another in the center of his neck. Swallowing, he carefully ran his hands through Daniel’s hair and clenched his jaw tightly. One at the base of his skull, bigger than the rest. It was second nature to check himself over, and he was stunned when his self examination yielded nothing; aside from the knock on his head, he was untouched. Dread injected into him with less finesse than any of Doc Fraiser’s nurses. 

He lightly slapped Daniel’s face, hoping to gain any type of response. When none came, he crazily looked around the small room for something to aid him. As where he had awakened, the place was barren. Water. That’s right. Daniel would be okay until he could come back. Stiffly rising to his feet, Jack shuffled to the door with his original mission in mind. A wordless, sighing mewl stopped him in his tracks. 

Back at Daniel’s side before he even registered moving, he anxiously watched the archaeologist for continued signs of awareness. Cupping his left hand over a cool cheek, Jack massaged it with his thumb. It seemed to work, as Daniel furrowed his eyebrows and leaned into the bare embrace. Warmth effused through him, banishing the cold grip of fear still there. As if needing to share the sensation, he again started to rub the younger man’s shoulder. 

“Daniel,” he coaxed, this time truly believing he’d get a reaction. 

“Mmmm,” Daniel breathed, the last bit coming out as a squeaking gasp, eyelids twitching and finally opening a crack. 

“Hey, nice of you to join me.” 

Confusion, fear and pain chased each other’s tails in Daniel’s eyes, which widened at Jack’s greeting. There was no recognition in the gaze, and for a second he found himself panicking again. Then Daniel nodded once and closed his eyes. As much as he hated dragging his friend to full consciousness, he was all too aware of how little he knew about where they were. And what had been done to at least one of them. He wanted the other man mobile. Pronto. 

“Sorry, Daniel,” Jack muttered, grasping both of his friend’s shoulders and tugging him into a sitting position. Daniel groaned, but seemed to understand his intentions because he could feel muscles trying to work beneath his hands. “That’s it. Open your eyes again.” 

Dutifully, if sluggishly, complying, Daniel peered at him blearily. Not pleased at the persistent disorientation and apparent inability to focus his eyes, Jack maneuvered the archaeologist and propped him against the wall. Hot bursts of air dampened his shoulder as he leaned in to try and situate the other man as comfortably as possible. Worried about Daniel’s unusual acquiescent silence, he pulled back and studied his friend closely. 

“You with me?” 

An uncoordinated head bob; another loud sigh. 

“Can you talk? This may come as a surprise, but I’d really like to hear you say something right about now,” Jack jokingly said, trying to disguise mounting concern. Daniel’s eyebrows quirked, though he couldn’t be sure if that meant anything or was merely residual muscle spasms. Plastering a reassuring smile on his face, he scooted back further, keeping a loose grip on the other man. “And the wonders will never cease.” 

To Jack’s dismay, Daniel simply blinked at him, closed his eyes and slumped to the side. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Trying very hard to do as Jack asked, Daniel blinked to focus his blurry vision. The face in front of his was still a featureless blob, so he blinked again and found he couldn’t reopen his eyes. The trace of control he had over his muscles evaporated, leaving him limp and slowly tipping over. Knowing landing was going to hurt, he braced himself, suddenly struck with an indistinct memory of recently doing the exact same thing. And failing.  

“Shit,” he heard Jack murmur, then he was involuntarily changing direction mid fall. His face landed not on hard ground, but something soft. There was a strange vibration rippling through him as Jack continued, “I’ll take that as a no.” 

After several disorienting moments, he realized Jack had caught and was cushioning him. Daniel wanted to open his eyes and let his friend know he was fine, just a little muddled. Nothing seemed to want to work, though; he could barely feel his arms and legs, let alone use them. It was as though he was waking up after surgery, his brain and body still affected by the anaesthetic. But he hadn’t had surgery, had he? Scouring a spotty memory, the last thing he remembered with any clarity was he and Jack arguing. Feeling boxed in. 

“Well, it’s not like you can hear me, but I’m going to set you down and go see if I can find some water or something, okay?” 

Jack apparently didn’t expect an answer, because Daniel was again moving without any effort on his own part. The motion, while amazingly gentle, made the contents of his stomach swish and spin with such forcefulness he started breathing heavily in an attempt to settle the nausea. It didn’t work. 

“Guh…” Daniel gasped, then dry heaved. For some reason, he really didn’t want to vomit all over Jack. “Puke.” 

“Crap!” Jack exclaimed, quickly and dizzyingly whirling him to his side. 

A strange part of his mind wanted to teasingly correct Jack there was no danger of crap but his mouth was suddenly filled with bile and acid, taking away the option. Spitting out the foulness, Daniel coughed, each paroxysm actually seeming to return some of the feeling to his useless limbs. The spasms lasted for several minutes after his stomach was emptied, tearing into him and reminding him why it sucked so much to be sick. Through it all, hands kneaded his back and shoulders, and words he couldn’t really decipher filled his ears. 

Jack. Confusion set in, a clear image of the other man hanging upside down back on…P-something. He couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter, really. Shivers sent goosebumps across his body, which Daniel slowly realized was disproportionately exposed to cold air. The massaging hands picked up their pace, attempting to supply warmth through friction. Pleasantly surprised when it worked, he sighed and felt his stomach stop its queasy tumult at long last. Scratching noises and a soft grunt warned just prior to another shift in position, and he was back on something warm and soft. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay now.” 

Worried tone, very nearly scared. Daniel frowned at the incongruity of both things coming from his usually stalwart companion. The need to understand where they were and what was causing Jack’s concern prompted him to try to open his eyes again. Unwilling eyelids fluttered briefly, letting in snaps of raw brightness and he squinted to minimize the discomfort. A pinkish mass hovered directly over his face, and he drew back from it until he realized it was a hand, shielding him from the worst of the fluorescent rays beating into his retinas. He switched his gaze to locate the source of the warmth behind his left shoulder and back, finding Jack examining him. Relief replaced apprehension as the predominant emotion expressed on the other man’s face when Daniel nodded haphazardly. 

“Where…” Daniel started to ask around an abnormally thick tongue, clearing his throat before continuing, “Where are we?” 

“Don’t know. I woke up in a different, uh, room and was heading out for recon when I found you. My guess is we’re not in Kansas anymore.” 

“You mean not on P…not on the planet?” God, he wished his head would get up to speed. 

“I can’t be sure, but yes. I’m getting the feeling we’re in some kind of ship.” 

“How…” 

“Did we get here?” Jack finished, apparently not wanting him to talk. Daniel couldn’t argue. “Again, don’t know. The last thing I remember was you, uh, passing out. Then my head smacked into the wall and bang, I woke up here. Do you remember anything?” 

Tension, irritation and arguing, followed by asphyxiation and fear. Gulping in a deep lungful of air, Daniel had hazy recollections of waking and losing consciousness again. Of something invading his personal space, stripping and poking and hands. Hands on him, not with a reassuring touch. Losing self-control, he stared up at Jack and opened his mouth to speak but only a weak croak came out. He didn’t know what it was he was remembering, only that he felt violated in some way. Shuddering, he looked away from his friend and took a scant survey of the room they were in. A prison cell, only too sterile. 

“Daniel? What do you remember? This could be important.” 

“I don’t. Something…what happened?” he choked, trying to stem the horrible feeling from rising. Jack sighed an angry curse, his arms tightening, and Daniel turned back toward him. The horrible feeling conquered his ineffectual attempts, leaving him cold with unnamable fear as he took in the sick expression on his friend’s face. “Something happened?” 

Jack sagged, taking on the appearance of someone much, much older. Ancient and aged and drained. Daniel wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he already partially suspected. Studying the other man, he searched for indications Jack was hurt in some way. Muted pain creased the corners of Jack’s eyes, but it didn’t appear unmanageable. Hit his head. Nothing else had happened to his friend. Him, whatever it was. 

“Jack?” 

“We’re both fitted with a device I think is meant to keep tabs on us,” Jack grimly said, averting his eyes. “It took you a lot longer to wake up than me, almost like you’d been drugged. Obviously a source of concern.” 

“There’s more, isn’t there? Tell me,” Daniel prompted, brain abruptly turning back on. His unsettled return to consciousness had reminded him of post op recovery. God, what if that were the case? Frantically, he tried to sit up, eyes darting across his bare torso for signs or scars. 

“Hey, hey. Relax. You’re okay, Daniel. I swear.” Jack took a long pause, mechanically patting his shoulder again. Easing into the embrace he should feel awkward about, Daniel calmed down a bit with the knowledge Jack would tell him if something were truly wrong. “I don’t have any idea what they mean, so don’t panic. I found multiple puncture wounds scattered around your body, but I don’t think they’re dangerous.” 

Stripping and poking and hands, hands on him. Shuddering, he closed his eyes. “Punctures? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. Not a mark on me,” Jack said angrily, causing Daniel to stare up at him. 

Feeling stronger, Daniel pulled out of Jack’s grasp, scooting away from the other man and sitting under his own power at last. The room did a half loop before straightening into gray dampness, and he quelled another surge of nausea by using Jack as a focal point. Alarmed when he thought he read guilt staring back at him through his friend’s eyes, he shook his head. He didn’t even understand what had happened, but he knew this was no one’s fault. Not his own for springing the traps, not Jack’s for bumping into him and unintentionally _causing_ him to spring the traps, not Sam or Teal’c’s for… 

“Sam? Teal’c?” Daniel squeaked, afraid they were here and Jack had found them. That they were dead and that’s what was making Jack look so upset. 

“Haven’t seen them,” Jack said quickly, remorse filling his eyes as he ran a hand across his mouth. The other man paused, tilting his head to one side. “Actually, I haven’t seen anyone other than you.” 

“We’re alone?” Half glad and half disheartened his other two friends weren’t with them, Daniel’s confusion nonetheless grew with that information. It didn’t make sense for them to be the only ones here. Where were their captors?  
  


“Don’t think so. There are sounds of activity coming from down the hall.” 

“We should go check it out, then.” 

“ _We’re_ not going anywhere, Daniel,” Jack snapped, jerkily rising to his feet and pacing the small room. Daniel didn’t miss the off-kilter hitches in the other man’s normally fluid stride. “You’re secure for the time being. I’ll go see what I can find out, then come back for you.” 

Taken aback by the brusque delivery of Jack’s orders, Daniel climbed to his feet to show both of them he was fine, if that was the issue. Of course, he wasn’t fine. Once standing, he discovered his legs were still pretty unsteady, and the action made his head throb, vision distort. Determined not to let that stop him, he braved one step and instantly knew it was a mistake. Quickly groping for the wall, he leaned against it as casually as possible, as if that had been his intention all along and not simply a byproduct of severe dizziness. 

“I should come with you,” Daniel announced, defiantly glaring at Jack’s wavering form. 

And suddenly Jack was right in his face, jaw tightly clenched. Startled, Daniel jumped and lost his already precarious balance, slipping gracelessly down the smooth wall. Landing on his rear, he scowled in irritation at his body’s betrayal. He knew he needed to be with Jack, no matter what manner of beast might be lurking out there. Crouching down in front of him, his friend smiled grimly but gone was the frustration he’d witnessed before.  

“Not this time, Daniel. You can barely stand, might have been injected with a foreign substance at one point from there to here, AND,” Jack raised his voice as Daniel started to claim complete healthiness, “AND if this is a prison of some sort, that get up is the last thing you want to go traipsing around in. No, I take that back – it’s the second to the last thing. You’re staying here. That’s not debatable.” 

“But Jack, what if – ” 

“Anh! Not. Debatable. I’m going, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. You will be here and you will not have set foot from this room.” 

Then Jack practically flew away from him, agility apparently restored as if through some miracle, leaving Daniel openmouthed, confused and unheard. He felt like a child reprimanded for something he hadn’t done, yet hadn’t been given the chance to provide any defense before punishment was doled out. 

Back to the basics, then. 

~~~~~~~~ 

As thankful and heart trippingly happy he was Daniel was alive, Jack was filled with aggravation at the younger man’s unwillingness to follow orders. Going from thinking his team member was dead to being overwhelmingly annoyed with said almost dead team member in a matter of minutes made his head feel like a slab of marble being chiseled by an inept artist. An inept and careless artist. Every couple of feet he turned around, expecting the archaeologist to be doggedly following him as if it were his sole duty in life to be a pain in Jack’s mik’ta.  

Progress stilted by frequent Daniel checks, he passed only four more cubbyholes in the same amount of time it had taken him to find his friend. Damnit. He had to let his anger go, not let it hinder his task. Daniel could hardly move; he wouldn’t be foolish enough to disregard the logic in Jack’s reasoning. Resisting the urges to turn around, he continued on for a couple more paces when he came upon a larger alcove housing ten strange bowl shaped, chrome fixtures, low to the ground and evenly spaced. Five on either side of a bigger piece of equipment. Dumbly staring at it for a second, it finally dawned at him that this room was apparently a communal bathroom. Duh. It didn’t take an archaeologist to figure that out. 

Archaeologist. Right. Setting aside his lingering ill will toward Daniel, he sauntered over to the big basin thingy, hoping it was a sink or shower or something useful like that. No faucet or spigot was blatantly obvious, so Jack notched one step closer, launching himself backward as a deluge sprang forth and frowning when it immediately stopped. Okay, so the thing was motion sensitive. The problem of lack of water solved, he relaxed a little. No, not solved at all. He paused, looking around for a container to fill. Finding nothing but the ten odd urinal/bidet things. Which were so not an option. Sighing, he edged back into the hallway and tipped his head toward the noises he had originally set out for. 

A twinge of hesitation hit him. Militarily, he knew it was best for him to do the information gathering while the possibly physically _and_ chemically impaired civilian waited behind. However, not knowing what or who he was about to run into, Jack also figured having an archaeologist/anthropologist/speaker of many tongues at his side wasn’t such a bad thought either. Damnit. That was probably what Daniel had been trying to tell him. So, forge ahead and hope for the best, or admit he hadn’t considered all the options and retrieve his still recuperating teammate? 

The image of Daniel’s dumbfounded expression as he’d left made the decision much easier but he couldn’t use that as the solitary basis for it. So far, no threat had made its presence known, a gift Jack knew he shouldn’t waste. And he also knew he couldn’t rely on it, and quickly determined it would be better to face the unknown together instead of individually. He had no idea who had brought them here, and leaving his friend alone and sick was, in hindsight, not the smartest thing to do. Rolling his eyes, Jack swiveled and began the laborious trek back to the other man. He just hoped Daniel wouldn’t make him grovel. 

Had he found Daniel in the room where he’d left him, he might have been happy to grovel. Instead, all he found was the puddled evidence of an upset stomach and three blank walls pointing their imaginary fingers and laughing at his stupidity. Damnit, Daniel. Anger quickly replaced shock, and was then replaced with fear. He didn’t know for sure the archaeologist had ventured from the cell. For all he knew, the critters responsible for bringing them both here had somehow taken him somewhere. The one thing he did know was Daniel had not gone in the same direction as he, so Jack exited the room and briskly walked down the hall, back toward his original alcove.  

His journey only lasted three cells, where he found Daniel hunched over, back toward him. Crying a mental ‘argh’, Jack jumped to his friend’s side. The archaeologist twitched violently at his arrival, turning stricken eyes up to him. What? Puzzled, Jack crouched down and placed a hand on a cool, bare shoulder. 

“Daniel?” he prompted, gaining only a headshake and averted eyes. He followed the gaze and finally noticed he and Daniel weren’t the only two people in the room. Dear Go…what was that thing? “Shit.” 

“I think it’s dead.” 

Biting back a reaction-induced caustic comment, Jack just nodded, squeezed the clammy shoulder and tugged at Daniel to get him away from the corpse. Their situation just became a little clearer and a lot direr. Whatever that thing was, it had obviously been tortured. Because he knew it might prove valuable, Jack did a quick examination of the body. It was small and vaguely humanoid in shape, but there any similarities to humanity ended. A fine layer of brown fuzz covered the entire, unclothed body and its one remaining hand was more accurately described as a paw, a familiar device attached to it with the orange light no longer illuminated. The remaining five…arms ended in stumps, none of the injuries recent. A multitude of ragged, hairless lines indicative of scarring marred its torso, also not recent. There was no way to tell what exactly had killed the poor thing, though Jack had to figure repeated trauma might have had a hand in it. 

Harsh rasping and distressed gagging interrupted his investigation, pulling his attention to his companion. Daniel hovered behind him, eyes fixated on the creature with horror. The archaeologist blinked, looking at him at last and stating woodenly, “About a minute after you left, I heard a soft scraping noise, then crying. Or something. God, it was alive when I got here, Jack. I tried to talk to it, but the few words it managed were completely unfamiliar to me. I couldn’t do anything for it.” 

“No one could have,” Jack assured, rising to his feet and grabbing the other man’s shoulders to hoist him up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

Daniel mutely nodded, accepting his help and staggering toward the exit. Disregarding the fact the other man had patently gone against his directive, Jack turned his inquisitive eyes onto him. Satisfied to see his friend moving much more steadily than he had been before, he watched Daniel quietly for a few moments before his gaze landed on additional puncture marks dotting his back, big enough to be visible even from a distance. Gritting his teeth together, he spared one last look at what he hoped was _not_ a precursor to their own experiences and jogged to catch up with the archaeologist. Gleaning facts about their whereabouts and captors was more important than ever.       

Silently moving down the wide corridor a few steps, Daniel suddenly stopped and turned to him with a pained expression. Blood solidifying in his veins, Jack lightly touched his friend’s arm, not sure what was wrong and not wanting to provoke unintentional hurt. To his surprise, Daniel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously before he said, “Wait a minute. Why did you come back, and aren’t you going to yell at me?” 

“Don’t think I’m not pissed as hell your interpretation of ‘don’t leave this room’ was more along the lines of ‘don’t leave this room unless you hear unusual, possibly threatening sounds of which investigating alone in a weakened state would be dangerous’. I am,” Jack calmly said, which was the truth. “But this once, I’m willing to cut you a little slack, what with your brain being addled and since no harm came to you.” 

Obviously, that wasn’t the right thing to say. The pained and confused look disappeared from Daniel’s face in lieu of indignation. Oh, boy. Wishing he could backpedal a couple of minutes, Jack just sighed and started talking again before his garrulous friend had the chance to tirade, “Okay, look. We don’t have time for this right now. I was coming back to get you because I found water but no container to put it in.” 

Silence. 

“You’re looking much better, by the way. Did I mention that?” 

More silence. 

“Fine, _and_ I figured if I were to encounter some alien…things, you’d be better at opening the lines of communication. If you were feeling up to doing recon,” Jack hastily admitted, feeling ten times the idiot for having been forced to confess his shortsightedness. Which he never should have let happen in the first place. 

“Huh?” Daniel stuttered, features morphing into flustered stupefaction. “Really?” 

Clearly the other man had expected a firm dressing down, and one probably riddled with inappropriately boorish how piss poor their friendship had become that his admitting error was such a shock. Impatience and irritation was now aimed at himself for not acknowledging culpability sooner, and for not taking the time to make repairs along the way instead of waiting until things were so bad a total overhaul had to be done. This, however, was neither the time nor the place to do it, and yet Jack had a feeling there may be little choice in that regard. His gut told him he and Daniel were in a whole world of trouble, the corpse they’d just left more than enough confirmation of that. 

“Yes, really.” 

“Oh. I’m, uh, you know, sorry. For not listening to you.” 

Daniel looked green around the gills as he unconsciously darted his eyes back to the cell and the body. Jack had no doubt the younger man wouldn’t be able to forget that particular image any time soon, a far worse punishment than any reproof on his part would have been. He couldn’t take any satisfaction with the knowledge, and he didn’t think he’d likely forget it either. Now he could only hope something worse didn’t come down the pike to replace it. Something like that mutilation happening to Daniel…or finding Carter and Teal’c already in that condition. No. He couldn’t let his mind wander down those particular paths, not when they were still relatively clueless. Things might not be as bad as they seemed. 

“I know,” was all he told the archaeologist, cupping an elbow and guiding Daniel a few paces before letting his hand drop. “Let’s go get that water.” 

“Works for me,” Daniel agreed, fingers stroking one temple. 

“Head hurt?” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“You could be dehydrated.” 

Jack thought it infinitely more likely leftover side effects from an anaesthetic, but he didn’t want to voice or think about that in any great detail. He just let silence fall as they slowly picked their way closer to the bathroom. His own headache seemed better, but still banged away. Scowling at their slow advancement, he regretted their less than top rate conditions. Despite the improvements, Daniel was still shaky and white-faced, and he felt only slightly less horrible than his friend looked. Eyeing the box on Daniel’s leg with suspicion, he was reminded of the other man’s near nakedness. Finding clothes got bumped up on the already huge to do list. 

They were almost at their destination when a loud, hollow ringing filled the air in two long bursts. Daniel skittered back toward him, wary anxiety in his entire countenance. Ready to assure him everything was fine, Jack heard many sets of feet heading their way from the end of the hall. He blinked stupidly as several creatures skulked into cells. Daniel tugged his arm in query, and he just shrugged and moved into the closest alcove, bringing his friend with him. There was nowhere to hide. 

“What do you think is going on?” 

He ignored the question, too busy watching the grotesque procession now moving past them. Finding a place to hide or an escape suddenly became a great idea, and Jack quickly snapped a glance at Daniel. Shaking the younger man from the stupor he had fallen in, he took one step forward to lead them out of their cell. Daniel’s hiss of pain sounded in his ears before the electricity dancing over his own nerves was felt, and they both fell back from the now not so open doorway to land in a jumble of arms and legs. 

“Crap,” Jack groaned. They were boned again. 

“Jack, can you…” Daniel gasped, wriggling underneath him. 

“Sorry.” 

Rolling away from what might have been construed as a compromising position, Jack again studied Daniel for signs of further injury. That blast had knocked them all the way across the room, packing quite a punch. His friend only had eyes for the parade, visage becoming more disturbed with very new abhorrence passing by. He reluctantly joined in the spectatorship, his own sickness growing. If this was a prison or prison ship, he really didn’t want to be here. Really, really. Would strongly consider selling his soul to get him and Daniel so far away from this place its existence would become a distant, erroneous figment of their collective imaginations. 

One by one, downtrodden and disfigured aliens trooped toward open cells. None of them bore any resemblance to the human form, and he couldn’t even tell if any of them belonged to the same species as each other, their afflictions were so horrific. Some hobbled on only one leg, others missing hands, fingers, eyes. As with the creature Daniel had discovered, multiple jagged scars covered each body, and Jack didn’t need a lot of creativity to understand internal organs were also missing. Daniel made tiny retching noises next to him, the sounds portentous despite being slight. There was no way he was going to allow that to happen to them. No. 

They sat in stunned silence, back up against the far wall as the last alien limped by. The air around them was filled with low keening, wails held in for fear or necessity. Turning to his friend, Jack signaled for him to remain quiet, though he could see the questions in Daniel’s eyes. Something in the atmosphere and the behavior of the other prisoners suggested something else was about to happen, and it wasn’t good. The rest of the people on board this vessel had obviously been here for a long time, so Jack thought it wise to mimic their bearing until he could figure out what to do. If he could do anything at all. To this point, he had failed to complete any given task. 

Another lone metallic toll sounded, lower in pitch than before. The alien residing across the way from them stood to attention, its head brushing the ceiling. Jack tried not to stare at the gigantic praying mantis type thing, which would normally have been considered a threat. Missing half of its limbs and locked away from him, he felt only pity for it. He took its lead, scrambling to his feet and ushering Daniel to do the same. Side by side, they waited. The apprehension from the archaeologist was palpable, and his own muscles twanged in return. He risked grasping Daniel’s forearm, hoping to give and gain reassurance. The other man’s muscles flexed under his fingers, and the arm was moved closer to him. He nodded. 

The wait wasn’t long. About a minute after the resonance of the bell had subsided, Jack heard more footsteps approaching. Not as many, and very steady. Unharmed. Their mysterious kidnappers, it would seem. Glancing at Daniel, he squeezed his hand once and then let go. No need to demonstrate their feelings to an unknown enemy. Daniel nodded, hesitantly stepping away from him. Jack didn’t know why, but the move set his hackles on edge. He found out why a few moments later. 

It was almost laughable. Stalking closer to them down the center of the corridor, with grandeur and bluster far bigger than they themselves were, came five miniature, robed beings. First appraisal pegged them at about four feet tall, with translucent skin, fine blond hair, pale green eyes and dainty, long fingered hands. Actually, everything about them screamed frailty, and he incredulously shared a look with Daniel. Then common sense reasserted as he remembered the much larger aliens being held by these sprites. Best not to judge a book by its cover. From what he could tell, they were just checking to ensure all of their captives were safely contained. 

One of them excitedly pointed directly at him and Daniel, the rest following the finger. Rapid chattering immediately arose and he had a feeling they weren’t saying nice things, their green eyes darkening with eerie menace. All five scurried to stand before their cell, staring at them with expressions blank, except for the green sparks blazing from their large eyes. He had no idea what he and Daniel had done to piss them off, but their ire was apparent. Three of them abruptly moved forward, breaching the barrier with no adverse effects. Jack instinctively stiffened, the action proving unnecessary as they ignored him and aimed straight for the archaeologist. 

“Hey,” he objected, lifting his arms to bat away the hands intruding upon his friend. Daniel helplessly stared at him as the aliens prodded him closer to the door, looking as though he were afraid to strike out at the small creatures. No way. Bad things happened when the pair of them were together; worse when separated. “He stays here!” 

“Jack, I don’t think – ” 

Lunging forward, his hands brushed Daniel’s shoulder before the aliens swept the other man farther away. A sharp burning sensation rocketed up his right leg, intensifying until it seemed to make his muscles atrophy. He buckled, slamming down face first onto the floor. He faintly heard Daniel’s protestations but couldn’t move as the shield was apparently turned off and the archaeologist pushed out. The pain abruptly cut off, leaving him breathless. Jack forced his head up in time to hear a sizzle, which he assumed was the shield turning back on, and see Daniel’s legs stumbling away. 

He lifted himself up, catching the desperate look in Daniel’s eyes, then saw gray as his head fell back down. 

~~~~~~~~ 

He could do this; it was just for a few short hours. He and Jack had been free when they’d awoken, so it stood to reason this lockdown was only for the night. Closing his eyes and trying to forget the awfulness lurking there with him, Daniel bit his lip to keep from calling out to Jack again. Immediately after being deposited in his new, very separated from his friend, quarters, he had shouted down the house, terrified of the last sight he’d had of Jack, prone and convulsing from some unseen pain. He’d learned quickly how inadvisable that particular tactic was, a jolt of pure fire cutting off his voice and bringing him to his knees. Shortly after that, the lights had dimmed to give the illusion of night, but not enough to block out the reality of his situation. 

Pulled as far in the corner as he could get, Daniel stared at _it_ and wondered why he hadn’t heard Jack make any sound. Not that he wanted his friend to get electro shock therapy, which he suspected had already happened, but he was damn worried. It wasn’t like Jack to go quietly against any adversary. The longer he sat, the more his mind wandered to the fateful speculation that the dose of juice Jack was exposed to when the aliens had taken him away was more damaging than the zap he’d received. No. Jack was fine and he could do this. Just a couple of hours. 

Shuddering, he moved his eyes to the mockingly empty cell directly across from his holding pen. He had the feeling the strange little beings had intentionally put him here; that somehow he and Jack had broken the rules by being together. What better punishment for that infringement than being locked up with a corpse, all the while taunted by a luxuriously barren room? Daniel drew his legs even closer to his chest, as though that position offered safety. It didn’t. God, why wasn’t Jack making any noise? He’d be happy with a message banged in Morse code on the wall. Resting his head on his knees, he wrapped his arms around his legs. At least it was warmer all huddled up like this. The air seemed cooler than before, his skin constantly prickled with gooseflesh. 

He had to stop thinking about his own physical discomfort and the uncertainty of Jack’s fate. Okay. What did he know? It didn’t take him long to come up with the answer to that question: next to nothing. His brain had only just started working properly again when he’d stupidly left his first cell and found his present roommate. Then he had shut down for a little while again, until Jack showed up and confused him with a bizarre lack of exasperation. Throw in a macabre cavalcade of maimed aliens, being yanked away from his friend by innocent-looking-but-definitely-not-innocent brownies and finally being tossed in with a cadaver, and you got one perplexed Daniel Jackson. The only thing he knew for sure was he would give anything to be back with Jack. 

Which wasn’t going to happen until this forced rest period was over. Rest period. Daniel rocked his forehead from knee to knee, imagining exactly what these poor creatures were being given respite from. Slave labor? Hardly likely, given the sad shape they were in. Sexual servitude? Eww, and again their physical states contested that. Head throbbing, he screwed his eyes shut and lifted it off of his knees, tilting it back against the wall. None of this made any sense. 

Okay, back to the beginning. P…damnit, why the hell couldn’t he remember the planet’s designation? It really didn’t matter, but he was frustrated to no end at his inability to recollect that trivial piece of information. Gusting out an angry breath at his foolish mental tangent, Daniel tried to think if there was anything back at their initial entrapment that might be of any use. Nothing except the obvious advanced technology. That was a start. Whatever these aliens wanted from them, they had to rely on brainpower rather than brute strength. And so far, they were doing a bang up job. 

Wait, technology. 

Snapping his eyes open, Daniel had a flash of insight. He stretched out his right leg, twisting it a bit so he could get a clearer view of the gadget affixed to it. Squinting through the dimness, he couldn’t tell exactly how it was held in place. He needed light, and he needed to be able to get closer to compensate for his uncorrected vision, neither of which he was going to get. Growling in frustration, he glared at the carcass full on for the first time, as if it were the source of all his aggravations. And his eyes settled on the one pathetic paw, the device still attached. 

There it was, then. He could do it, had to do it. If he could figure out how the damned apparatuses worked, or possibly even how to remove them, that would significantly help him and Jack get the hell out of here before they fell victim to whatever it was these aliens were doing. That, and concentrating on that task would distract his mind from pondering possible atrocious scenarios for whatever it was these aliens were doing. He preferred not to risk his own limb in the process, and his test subject had been neatly handed to him.  

He clumsily crawled toward the body, drawing up short when he distinguished a major problem with his plan – he could hardly look at the gory thing without being overcome by revulsion and a resurgence of dread contemplating what had finally killed the poor creature. Daniel swore under his breath, knowing he was without choice. It was an artifact, needing thorough inspection. He was back at the SGC, under the harsh but soothingly familiar fluorescent lighting of his office and General Hammond had issued a deadline for his study. He had three hours to make a complete evaluation, then he’d turn it over to Sam for further analysis and a hypothesis on the purpose for the small machine. 

Shit. Sam. Teal’c. 

Daniel straightened his shoulders and rued his ridiculousness. Buffering his own sense of comfort was not important, not when lives were at stake. He didn’t think he was being melodramatic at all in thinking if he and Jack stayed here they’d end up hacked apart like this poor monster. The reminder that Sam and Teal’c might be undergoing the same treatment had his hands moving toward the distasteful job he had imposed upon himself. 

He was puzzled at first that the minute orange light wasn’t lit, but quickly figured it was because the alien was dead. Shivering, Daniel lifted the paw up into the air, bringing his face closer to it. Surprisingly heavy in his hand, he jostled the limb once as if the box would simply fall right off. When it didn’t, he sighed, set it back down and pushed the creature around so the arm was spread out toward him. Kneeling next to it with a grimace, he probed around the edges of the device, swallowing heavily as the flesh obligingly gave under his inspection. Well, it wasn’t strapped on that he could see. Nudging his face even closer, he poked at the skin again, pulling it away from the box and peering underneath it. 

Several glints of dull silver caught his eye, but he couldn’t really determine what they were. One hand grasping the arm tightly, he employed the other to wiggle the box slightly. The bits of silver moved in conjunction with it, and Daniel got a better view of them. Thin bars, apparently securing the device directly to the muscle or bone. Frowning, he dropped the arm and looked quickly at his own contraption. Why didn’t it hurt? He would have thought there would be some discomfort. Counting the lack of pain as a blessing, he refocused his attention. He really needed to get the device off so he could disassemble it. Already knowing part of its function was to inflict pain, he had a suspicion that was not the only thing it was capable of. Jack could be right about it being a tracking mechanism. 

Either way, removal was key. Wincing apologetically at the creature, he set about his study again. He pinned the limb to the floor with one of his feet, using both hands to pull at it. It gave a little, but was held firmly in place. Adding extra strength, he tugged harder. His efforts resulted in a high-pitched squeal emitting from the previously defunct machine, and he dropped it to cover his ears. Through the ruckus, he heard thumps on both walls of his cell and low cries of suffering. If he hadn’t already realized he’d made an error, he certainly did now. 

The orange light on the dead body’s box suddenly glowed to life, flickering spasmodically and warningly. Shit, shit, shit. Instinct drove him to the corner, where he cowered with his arms protectively flung over his head. The screech diminished to a soft hiss, and he uncovered himself in bewilderment. Relieved his assumption had been incorrect, he started to crawl back toward it when the room was unexpectedly filled with bright light and big noise. An explosion of fluid, hair and body parts shot right at him. He stumbled back with a croak, landing on his butt. What was left of the device skittered across the floor and landed at his bare feet. Daniel stared at it stupidly, fighting nausea as he felt the thick, cold blood of the creature drip off his hair, onto his shoulders. 

He barely had time to shake off a small portion of his shock before the consequences of his investigation manifested itself as another treatment of crippling pain originating from his right ankle, this time escalating to the point even the ends of his hair hurt. Toppling over onto his side, his body quivered violently for what seemed like forever, then the torture ended and he was left panting, throat raw as though he’d been screaming. His fingers twitched, creeping toward his right ankle in an unconscious desire to rid himself of it, though he now knew it couldn’t be taken off. 

“Daniel? Daniel! Damnit, ans…agh!” 

Jack. Relief and dismay assailed him with equal force at the introduction of his friend’s voice at long last, and the plain result of the eruption as that welcome voice choked off. With horror, Daniel realized he must have screamed out loud, causing Jack to call out. It was his fault his friend was now in pain. Scrunching his eyes shut, he knew what he had to do. 

“Don’t talk, Jack. I’m fine, I’m okay,” he hurriedly imparted, voice ragged. 

As expected, the pain started again, thankfully in a lesser increment. Chewing on his bottom lip, Daniel refused to utter a sound as he rode it out. Further exclamations from him would only make Jack endure more, he was sure. The hurting dissipated quickly, but he found he couldn’t do anything more than concentrate on his breathing. Okay, so disturbing the peace during the night was a big no-no. Weakly pounding a fist into the floor, he gritted his teeth. He hadn’t learned a damn thing about the stupid tags, _and_ was responsible for Jack’s pain. Lesson learned. He wasn’t brainless enough to make another mistake.  

Shakily hauling himself upright, Daniel surveyed the mess of stickiness covering both the walls and most of his person. Gagging as the foul stench of blood filled his nostrils, he was relieved his stomach was empty of anything to vomit. He opened his mouth, breathing in and out through it to avoid the smell now saturating the cell. Block it out. He had to block it out. Slamming his eyes shut, he put up a mental image of sunshine and…roses. Pretend the horribleness he was stuck with hadn’t just gotten much, much worse. Think about anything but what would greet him when he opened his eyes again. 

The device was still there, partially intact. He wasn’t Sam, but he could still see if there was anything left that might give a little clue as to how to remove the damn things. Without having them blow up, of course. Fortifying his resolve, Daniel cracked his eyes open and tried to maintain the illusion he’d created. His eyes briefly scanned the room, landing at last on his goal. Don’t think. Don’t think about the gore. Scuttling over to it, he cursed his trembling fingers as they fumbled it around, dropping it back down to the floor. He cringed, suddenly afraid the alien gaolers had a means of monitoring each prisoner and would unleash more misery upon him. He wasn’t afraid of the pain, but if there were a choice in the matter, he’d take the pain free route. He kicked the box away from him, sending it bumping into a dark puddle with a sick, sucking noise. Grinding his teeth, he looked away. 

Unfortunately without the device to focus on, the stomach churning streaks of blood on the wall and the chunks of a body torn violently apart couldn’t be imagined away. Just a couple of hours. Wearily easing down onto his back, he stared at the ceiling light. An odd, malformed eyeball staring right back at him. Daniel knew he should try to sleep; doubted he would tonight or however many nights they were stuck here. Rolling onto his side, he pitched his body away from the worst of the wreckage that was once a life, catching sight of the empty cell. Where only a short while ago it had tormented him, now it provided him an escape, and he kept his eyes pinned on those three clean walls. Just a couple of hours. 

His thoughts drifted down the hall to Jack. Since the minor excitement had passed, he hadn’t heard anything from any of the prisoners. Certainly not his friend. Having spent much of the past five years wishing the other man would just not speak at all in tense situations, not make himself the center of attention as a means to protect his team, Daniel suddenly longed to hear a flippant remark. Something. Anything to keep him sane. It was ironic if he thought much about it. Jack would get a kick out of his need, especially considering yesterday both of them wanted to be as far away from each other as possible. Yesterday? God, he didn’t even know how long they’d been here. It might have been days already. Sam and Teal’c were probably frantic. As much as he didn’t wish them that anxiety, it was better than the alternative that kept popping into his mind. Horrific images of them being sawed into…Daniel choked loudly, shoving a hand over his mouth to prevent more noise from escaping. 

An answering cough came back at him, intentionally rough and he knew it was Jack, asking him if he was really okay. Daniel smiled at how absurdly strengthened that cough made him feel. He was okay; everything was going to be fine. He cleared his throat, earning an unconvinced snort. 

Daniel wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes but they were thankfully so when the lightly abruptly gleamed back on. Brilliant red flooded his eyelids the same instant another bell…morning bell sounded, pulling him from a semi-conscious state. Keeping his shutters, er, shut, he heard an uneven scraping sound within his cell, and identical ones from throughout the ward. He really, really didn’t want to open his eyes to see the blood and guts and _damnit_. He aimed his face the direction he thought the scraping had come from, a point near the door, to his right and hopefully away from the worst of it. Through slit eyes, he saw his prediction was correct – he was looking at a thin shelf ejecting from the wall, a tray. On it were a metal mug, a hunk of something he assumed was breakfast, and a bundle of coarse material. 

Refusing to let his eyes settle on anything else, he got to his knees and crawled toward it. The hunk turned out to be bread, which he didn’t even consider eating. The cup of water was a more difficult decision. He really didn’t think either would be dangerous to consume, but better safe than sorry. No. Jack had found water before and had seemed fine with drinking it. Grabbing the cup, he greedily gulped it and moved to the last item. He fingered the cloth for a second before lifting it off the tray. Pants. Thank goodness. He pulled them on, frowning when the fabric snagged on his sticky skin. 

Grimacing, he knew he couldn’t avoid it anymore. Looking down at his arms and chest, he found them as he suspected – covered with blood. Actually, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. The blood was deep brownish maroon, dried and flaking off in areas and there was still a good portion of his skin showing through. Who was he kidding? Daniel felt disgusting, repulsed to the point of gagging again. God, he needed to get this stuff off him and to be so, so far from this room. His legs took him to the shielded doorway, operating on their own will. Any second now they’d be let out to do…whatever. He danced from left to right foot, impatiently waiting. 

Two tolls let him know it was safe to leave, and he bolted across the hall to the empty cell. He decided he’d remain behind until the rest of the occupants made their way past the bathroom Jack had found. As harmless as the other prisoners seemed, Daniel didn’t relish the idea of baring himself to them. The procession moved more quickly than it had the previous evening but still at a rate unhurried enough for him to scan the tortured bodies for any scrap of information he and Jack might need. Nothing stood out, and he found he had to look away after only a few minutes anyway. Leaning his head against the wall, he closed his eyes and listened as the footsteps receded. 

Stepping out into the passageway, he started toward Jack and the showers, following a couple of stragglers. The bulk of the parade was still in the corridor, moving in a ripple. Narrowing his eyes at how softly they went, Daniel wondered what the reason for the forced quietude was. Other than the blazing pain wreaked out for speaking in a loud tone. There was a faint rumble running throughout the crowd, which he thought might be some of the aliens talking softly amongst themselves. One in the last group turned its head to peer at him curiously out of its only eye, quickly snapping its head back around when he gave it a strained smile. 

Drawing his lips tightly together, Daniel saw one figure bucking the crowd and heading toward him. Shit. Jack. He was such an idiot. Immediately, he started walking faster. After his the hellish night, the first thing he should have done was to locate his friend, who was probably going to kill him for not doing just that. A smile of relief began as Jack finally came into sight. The other man looked tired as hell, dark circles under his eyes and unruly hair, but he was fine. Raising a hand in greeting, he stopped it halfway up when Jack’s face turned gray. Puzzled, Daniel turned around to see if there was something behind him to make his friend upset. Finding nothing, he spun back. 

And was greeted with one raging Colonel Jack O’Neill, who grabbed him with unnecessary force, kicking his feet out from underneath him and knocking him in a dazed pile onto the floor.  

~~~~~~~~ 

The past hours had just made it onto his list of those that he would love the chance to rub out from memory. Once he’d got his wits back about him after the zapping incident, Jack had been ready to howl for his teammate to be brought back when the praying mantis thing across the hall hissed at him. Startled, he’d stared at it stupidly as it shook its head and brought an arm up across its mouth. He thought. It had been a tad difficult for him to really tell if he was interpreting the body language correctly, given the unusual body and its unusual…health problems. Watching it closely, he’d opened his mouth as if to speak again and his action gained the same response. And an additional swipe of an arm indicating first the creature’s tag, then his own. 

Then he’d sensed the near, almost fearful silence of the rest of the prisoners and made an intuitive leap. Like it or not, he hadn’t even been able to give himself peace of mind concerning Daniel’s safety. Nodding his thanks to the mantis, he’d slumped wearily against the wall in resignation. Those buggers had looked royally pissed. Like ‘hack the insubordinate heathen to pieces’ pissed. The only comforts he’d been able to snatch were the lack of pained noises from the archaeologist and the fact he’d been taken deeper into the bank of cells instead of out. 

Still, the silence had been torturous, made even more so when the five little alien freaks had practically sauntered by him with smug smiles. His stomach had knotted and had stayed that way for at least an hour as his imagination took off in bounds, placing Daniel in about a thousand appalling scenarios. The need to know had become unbearable when all of a sudden a piercing siren had erupted, sending a cacophony of reaction throughout the hall and ending with a resounding boom and a flash of light he could see from his location. It had come from the same way Daniel had been taken, instantly sending alarm bells of his own into alert. The words had already formed in his mouth as another, more terrible sound replaced the boom. Screaming. 

Daniel screaming. Long and terribly, ending with a low groan after almost forever.  

Calling out had been a reflex action, the consequential zappage acceptable when his outcry gained a shaky response. After that he had willed himself to be satisfied with the small blessing for the remaining of hours of separation. A strangled cry easily recognizable as Daniel an hour or so later had cut Jack cold, a clear demonstration of how rough a time the other man was having. It killed him that all he had been able to do was cough an inquiry. The clearing of the throat he got as an answer had done little to assuage his worry but it had been better than nothing. And then the silence had returned. Oppressive and suffocating. 

But he had made it. Both of them had. He knew that had to be true, but he still wanted physical proof. Pushing against the flow of the mass, Jack bobbed his head up in an attempt to locate Daniel. He couldn’t see any sign of the younger man, the knot that had persisted through the night tightening again. Cursing under his breath, he elbowed several of the creatures aside, feeling slightly remorseful for picking on the maimed. The regret only lasted a second as he glimpsed a familiar head of hair nodding toward him. Grinning with relief, he took one step and then it was as if someone had taken a vacuum to his lungs and a cane to his legs. 

Blood. That was blood. So much of it, covering Daniel’s entire body. Oh, God. 

He couldn’t move or breathe for an immeasurable amount of time, too horrified. Then he was magically in front of Daniel, seizing the smaller man and unceremoniously conducting him to the floor. His hands rapidly, involuntarily patted every square inch of the archaeologist down. Daniel squirmed at his touch, drawing back with a yelp. Nothing. He couldn’t find the source of the injury anywhere. Sagging down, hands still clamped on his friend’s shoulders, Jack let out a shaky breath. Confusion quickly set in, and he whipped his eyes up, staring directly into equally bewildered blue ones. 

“Jack? What’re you doing? Let go,” Daniel mumbled, his words tripping out so fast they ran together. The archaeologist wrenched free, warily sliding away from him with his hands raised. 

Gaping at the odd reaction, Jack just stared at Daniel for a while, still not convinced the other man wasn’t injured in some way. There was so much blood. Not Daniel’s? The moment of thought stealing fear passed, he suddenly started to feel a bit self-conscious for his frantic, uncontrolled actions. Looking away, he could feel the archaeologist’s eyes following his every move. He shouldn’t really need to explain it. 

“Blood. I thought…” Jack tried at last, swallowing thickly instead of continuing. He gazed at Daniel, shrugging his shoulders slightly. 

Beneath the dark streaks, Daniel’s face went completely colorless, eyes widening in realization. His mouth flapped a couple of times, a hiss of air the only thing to come forth as he shook his head. Finally, the power of speech returned, “Oh, God. I’m sorry. It’s not…it’s not mine.”  

Nodding, Jack started to believe it as the shock wore off. Daniel’s distressed face reflected more than concern for his mental well being, and if he had to guess it would be because of the sticky, gruesome mess coating him. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he gently prodded. 

Daniel struggled to his feet, shivering visibly as he held out his arms and stared at them. Jack finally noticed the younger man was now wearing pants, the same drawstring kind he had on. Score one grudging bonus point for the aliens for that. Speaking of, he half expected their captors to punish them for lollygagging around. He joined Daniel in standing, spreading an arm out toward the bathroom facilities. The other man looked puzzled but started walking with even, uninjured steps. Sickening blood. God, he wanted that stuff off his friend. 

“I, um, was… they put me in with the corpse we found,” Daniel fumbled to explain. Jack winced at the haunted tone. Those sadist alien Munchkins would _so_ get theirs if he had anything to say about it. “I think to really hammer home the point that cells are single occupancy only. Anyway, I couldn’t seem to sleep, and started thinking.” 

“About?” he asked, knowing the younger man had probably not been able to _stop_ thinking. Defense mechanism. And Jack was beginning to get a good idea on his own about what had gone down. The big boom and the gore all over Daniel were good indications. 

“The devices on our legs.” 

They reached the bathroom, the rest of the inmates gone from sight and no sign of their captors. Jack frowned. What the hell had they got into? It made no sense – strict nighttime rules, but run around all you wanted during the day? His head started to hurt again, turning into a dull throb when Daniel stepped out of his pants and he saw more blood there. Damnit. He was ill just thinking about spending hours in that condition, what effect had it really had on Daniel? 

“I, uh, thought you said there was water?” Daniel blankly stared around the room. 

“That thing over there. It’s motion sensitive,” Jack said, pointing vaguely. He looked away to give Daniel some privacy and himself respite. 

“Oh.” Jack heard the splatter of water on the floor and relaxed a little. Daniel continued, “So, anyway. I thought that if I could figure out how to get it off the…body, we could remove ours as well. It, uh, didn’t work out as I had hoped. Apparently, they’re meant to stay on. I must have triggered some kind of self destruct, which also seems to take the person wearing the device with it.” 

So first Daniel got stuck with a dead body for a roommate, and then its…parts sprayed all over and around him. He was instantly reminded of Daniel’s horrified expression back when Graham had blown himself up during that Zantax debacle. Jack’s gut roiled at the thought, and at the matter of fact way Daniel was relaying all of this information. Defense mechanism number two. Bad. So bad. 

“We’re stuck with them, huh?” Jack growled, angry that Daniel had gone through all that for nothing, and got a nightmare inducing bloodfest to boot. 

“I’m not sure. It actually survived somewhat intact, but I was afraid to mess with it anymore,” Daniel softly admitted, making Jack turn around. The archaeologist was scrubbing furiously at his arms and legs, though the blood had already washed away. Shit. “The shock _they_ gave me for tampering with it at all was…unpleasant. I thought perhaps they were still monitoring.” 

Daniel screaming. Long and terribly, ending with a low groan after almost forever. 

“Something I, for one, would like to avoid in the future,” Jack commented with a mental shudder. For himself and Daniel. Mostly so he didn’t have to ever, ever hear Daniel screaming like that again. “You think it’s still worth checking out?” 

“Maybe.” Daniel finally stepped out from the spray of water, dripping all the way to stand next to him. He looked around, deep line creasing in between his eyebrows. “No towels? What kind of joint is this?” 

The comment was so unexpected, Jack didn’t quite know what to do with it. He hoped Daniel meant it as a signal he was really okay. He mutely stared at the other man, feeling his eyebrows lift toward his hairline. Daniel peered right back at him, eyes suddenly pleading with him for something. 

“I don’t know. You pay big bucks for a fancy hotel and what do you get? Lousy service. Management’s so going to hear about this.” 

He tried to infuse as much flippancy in the remarks as possible, not wholly certain this was what Daniel needed from him. Normality. Laughing in the face of misfortune was his forte, something he did to make himself feel more in control. Jack had always hoped his levity was also a source of support for the rest of his team and he waited tensely for the archaeologist to prove him right. The beginnings of a smile teased, stopping just short of fully breaking out. The other man abruptly turned and yanked his pants back on, water darkening the fabric in spots. 

“Or we could leave without paying the bill,” Daniel said jokingly. His face was serious, and Jack couldn’t agree more adamantly. “That would show them.” 

“Okay, we’ll go with that plan then,” Jack concurred. “Since we seem to be on free time at the moment, we’re going to take the opportunity to go get the device from your…friend. Then we check out where the rest of the lucky souls have gone.” 

Daniel nodded, expression decidedly miserable at the prospect of revisiting his night quarters. There was no way in hell Jack was going to let him actually go back there, see what he’d been forced to endure. But neither was he going to let them be separated. Clapping the other man on the shoulder, he double-checked the hall before heading out. There was a long pause before he finally heard Daniel’s footsteps begin to follow, and he bit back the urge to tell his friend to stay put. Contrasting to his hesitation, Daniel quickened his pace and drew up right alongside, matching stride for stride. Which faltered, the archaeologist tensing so much Jack could feel it from a foot away.      

“Hey,” he casually said. “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go get it.” 

“It’s on the left,” Daniel whispered, letting out an immense breath and stopping immediately. 

Preparing for the worst, Jack continued on. Preparation was a waste of time, he quickly discovered as he spotted the first tracks of blood on the cell wall. His years of covert service in the military had made him hardened; blood and guts didn’t usually affect him. But this made his stomach twinge. He scanned the small room, eyes taking in the complete brutality in which the alien had been destroyed. There didn’t seem to be an inch of space not covered, an abnormally large amount of damage inflicted from such a small body. Swallowing, he finally located the tracking device lying in a thick pool. No wonder Daniel hadn’t really wanted to touch it.   

Crouching down to pick up the object, Jack’s eyes landed on a distinct shape on the ground. A bloody outline of a body curled up in the fetal position. God, Daniel. Anyone would have been hard pressed to bear a night in this horror. Daniel had done it with barely any indication of distress. He sometimes forgot just how strong his friend truly was, despite how outward appearances seemed on occasion. How he could ever forget such a thing was beyond him. 

No, actually, it was pretty easy to figure out. Daniel’s strengths included an immeasurable stubborn streak, a primary source of his own irritation. An irritation he was guilty of letting get out of control, until it had become the only thing he could see in the younger man. He couldn’t really expect his friend to change his personality, or ask him to weaken his strength.  

Of all the inconvenient places to have an epiphany. Jack pulled his eyes from the smudged silhouette, gathering up the charred machine and shaking it in the hopes some of the congealed blood would come off. None did, so he scraped it on the floor several times, grimacing at the new smears he added to the décor. He hoped to hell Daniel wasn’t forced to spend another night in here. He hoped to hell he could prevent it from even being a possibility. Standing up, he eyed the device with his full attention and knew it was a dead end. The inner workings he could see were melded together, and burned beyond recognition. If they had time, perhaps they could figure it out. Or if Carter were here. 

Carter and Teal’c. God, he’d nearly been able to rid himself of that recurring thought. He was almost one hundred percent certain they weren’t here. Okay, it was more like seventy percent. Since they weren’t around when he and Daniel first woke up, they would have been part of the alien walking wounded brigade. Right? Unless this ship was bigger than this small section, and they were just in a different section. No, that couldn’t be. He was seve…fifty. Fifty percent sure they weren’t here. The other fifty percent he allotted to being sure wherever they were, they were fine. 

“Jack? Are you okay?” Daniel’s voice interrupted his mental melee, way too close in proximity. Shit, how long had he been standing here? “Jack?” 

“Be right there,” Jack murmured, tossing the ruined box down and hightailing it back to his friend. At Daniel’s puzzled expression, he shrugged. “It was pretty much shot.” 

“Oh.” 

“C’mon.” Jack tipped his head and lightly touched Daniel on the arm. “Let’s go find a way out of this hole.” 

Squaring his uncovered shoulders, Daniel immediately fell in step with him. A reminder of determination that had always been present and would never go away. It was fact, and facts were something to deal with, not barrel around. Jack needed to modify his own attitude enough so that he and Daniel could work together the same way they had in the past. Butting heads was definitely ineffective, and the dissention it created was far too detrimental. He wasn’t sure he could change any more than his friend could; they had to find a middle ground. Both of them had to give a little. He believed that objective was very attainable. 

That newfound optimism should have made him feel better but Jack couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched, not just monitored by means of the equipment attached to their legs. If that proved to be the case, he and Daniel were going to have an incredibly difficult time in successfully escaping. Another fact he couldn’t circumvent. As they neared the end of the hall, he decided he needed to locate the cellmate that had been housed across from him. The sign language had been rudimentary at best, but it was a place to start and if he could figure out even a little of what had been communicated, then chances are Daniel would have a better time of it. Now knowing where the threat was coming from also helped matters – he was confident none of the other prisoners would hurt them. He just wasn’t sure he could count on them for help. 

The walkway led into an expansive chamber and a quick inspection showed there were three other entrances, one on each side of the room. They were unguarded, though none of the prisoners went near. Jack narrowed his eyes at the number milling about, definitely more than had fit in the bank of cells they’d just come out of. He had counted fifty rooms, and there were easily over one hundred captives. He couldn’t discern the new additions from the old and was disappointed none were humanoid. Relieved none were Carter or Teal’c. Daniel let out a low breath, mirroring his feelings precisely. 

“Teal’c and Sam aren’t here,” Daniel said as though he needed to hear the words aloud to truly believe it. “That’s good.” 

“Very. Knowing them, they’re already on their way after us. Wherever we are. Speaking of, what say we go see what we can find out?” 

“Yeah. I’m not so sure we’ll be able to get any information from anyone, though. At least not verbally.” 

“You’re probably right, but last night one of them tried to help me out. You could try sign language or something, right?” Jack urged with a smile. “Actually, I’m kind of surprised you didn’t try that.” 

Daniel blinked at him, face blanching as he looked away. “I couldn’t see anyone else.” 

“What do you mean? The lights weren’t that dim. There was a bug-looking thing across from me, and it very clearly told me to shut up if I knew what was good for me.” 

“There wasn’t anyone in that cell for me to communicate with, Jack.” 

Oh… _oh_. 

Those goddamn bastards. They were apparently as proficient in psychological torture as they were physical. Shoving his rising anger back down, Jack clenched his jaw once and shook his head. Nothing he could do about it in retrospect, but his resolve to get them out of this grew even bigger. He waded through his fluctuating emotions while continuing to scan the room. There didn’t appear to be a specific reason for them to be gathered here; the aliens were simply roaming aimlessly about. 

Waiting for something. 

He and Daniel had to find out what and deal with it. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit he already had a pretty good idea what they were here for; he just didn’t want to give credibility to the terrible implication. His eyes lit upon the praying mantis, tucked away in a corner by itself. He aimed right for it, Daniel in tow, hoping to get some much-needed but not-really-wanted answers. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Daniel didn’t know if he should be glad or sickened that the deformities surrounding him were easier to stomach than they had been the previous night. As Jack tugged him along in a manner he was really trying not to think of as a man taking an unruly puppy for a walk, he tried to look past the outward monstrousness in the aliens to find the truth of their natures. What he saw in their expressions was infinitely more disquieting than the physical appearances. Pain. Bewilderment. Defeat. He wondered how long it had taken for them to be beaten in spirit so thoroughly, kicking himself a moment later for the stupid thought. It didn’t take much to understand the horrors being inflicted, his own experience already demonstrating undue cruelty. 

     

Jack’s forward movement stopped rather suddenly, catching him so much off guard his left big toe stubbed on the device at his friend’s ankle. Recoiling in pain, he hopped backward a step and fought the urge to swear. No injury he’d received in his entire life could compare to the agony of a stubbed toe. Maybe a paper cut. Daniel found that oddly funny, his need to curse quashing under the upsurge of laughter building in his chest. Jack would think he was insane if he let it escape, though, so he cleared his throat and looked into annoyed brown eyes. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, taking the opportunity to see where Jack had led them. Beyond the other man was a gigantic bug, which towered over them even though it appeared to be sitting. “Whoa.” 

“This is the critter I told you about,” Jack brusquely said, waving his hand up and down the length of the alien. 

“Critter? Jack, maybe you should be a bit more polite.” 

“What for? It can’t understand us.” 

“We don’t know that. Just because we can’t grasp its language – which, by the way, I have yet to hear so we can’t really make an informed decision on that– doesn’t mean that it can’t understand ours,” Daniel immediately rejoined, remembering Nem and how quickly he had adapted to English. 

“For crying out loud, Daniel, we don’t…” Jack paused, face transforming from impatience to weary understanding. “You’re right, you’re right. Want to give it a shot?” 

Floundering at the abrupt, uncharacteristic turnaround, Daniel took another step back. The other man flinched at his reaction, lines on his face becoming deeper for a moment. With an apology in his eyes, he returned to Jack’s side. The alien was looking fearfully between both of them, and he thought he detected a higher level of ease when it focused on Jack. 

“You should first, since you had the chance to speak with it last night. Once we’re a little more settled, I can try.” 

“Good, because I’d like to take a walk around the perimeter of the room. Check out options.” Jack turned to the alien, looking at a loss for what to say for a moment before he started, “Uh, hi again. Remember me from last night? I don’t know if you can understand a word I’m saying here but I’m Jack. This is Daniel. New to these parts, in case you couldn’t tell. We’re a bit confused about why we’re here and are hoping you can shed some light.” 

Not the approach he would have taken but it was very Jack-like. Daniel was suddenly struck by the fact that only a couple of hours ago, the thought of his friend being the diplomatic liaison in any given situation had set his teeth on edge. The irony that he’d just reversed his preferred policy that he handle things did not escape him, and he acknowledged Jack wasn’t really all that bad at interpersonal relationship building. Just different. His instant negative reactions in the past likely had exacerbated what might have ended up being successful encounters had he given Jack a chance. Watching the alien closely for any sign of comprehension, he could see they weren’t going to have much luck in this case. It stared at Jack and didn’t utter a sound. 

“Daniel, I’m getting nothing here,” Jack redundantly said, running a hand through his hair. He dropped his hand for a second then tried again, using erratic hand gestures. “Can you tell us where we are?” 

Still the alien didn’t move. Daniel bit the inside of his cheek as the older man flashed his middle finger at it, turning to stare at him. Consternation swung up at the other man’s intolerance for anything that wasn’t quickly gained. Answers didn’t always come right away, especially when dealing with a previously unknown species and culture; Jack should know that. Jack _did_ know that, yet it didn’t seem to lessen his impatience. So far they weren’t in any real danger and time could be spared to delve a little more deeply in fishing out the who, what, why and where so they could work on the how. 

“Jack,” he warningly said, pretty sure it would be interpreted as censure. 

“Daniel?” Oh, yeah. There it was. The spiky, edged tone Jack used to enunciate his name when he was approaching exasperation. 

“Why don’t you go check out the rest of the room while I keep at it?” 

“Fine,” Jack growled, brown eyes shooting unwarranted sparks at him. 

Daniel automatically glowered right back, refusing to shrink from it. He couldn’t figure out what he could possibly have done to piss his friend off and he’d be damned if he’d let bully tactics get to him. Jack’s annoyance was not a little distressing anytime; when it was so inexplicable it really set off his internal alarms. Studying the stiff face in front of his, he was taken aback when he thought he read something other than anger flying at him. 

Fear. An iceberg replaced his stomach at the realization. Jack never really got scared. Worried and chary, yes. Understanding the cause for his friend’s behavior incongruously helped him relax to some extent and he softened his defensively combative expression. He suddenly remembered Jack usually did fine in diplomatic situations until he became too emotionally involved in the subject matter. Well, this fit that. 

“I’ll be fine here for a while, I think,” he quietly said. “These aren’t the people we need to be worried about.” 

The other man dipped his head once, touching him on the arm before moving off. Daniel curiously looked down at the point of contact, still retaining residual feeling. Jack had been touching him an awful lot since they’d arrived here. More than necessary, if he thought about it. Little brushes, as if to assure his safety; clues to Jack’s true state of mind regarding their confinement that he should have picked up on instantly. While it was comforting to know his friend cared, at the same time it was troubling and told him how very wrong Jack thought their situation was. Or might become. Even without the benefit of concrete information from their fellow inmates, the idea that had formed in the back of his mind he neither wanted to believe nor think about. If he was remotely correct, the magnitude of wrongness here was unimaginable. 

Nervously, he sought Jack’s location and found him already on the other side of the big area. The absence of his glasses didn’t disguise the fact his friend was maintaining visual contact of him while scouting the room and the three possible exits. Daniel didn’t have much hope for one of them; the number of creatures in here outweighed the number that had come from their corridor and it was logical to assume at least one of the doorways led into a similar chamber. That left two, which he urgently hoped would be their ticket out. Shivering slightly, he rubbed his cold hands on equally cold arms and looked away from Jack to refocus his attention on the alien. He didn’t think it was necessary for him to keep an eye on the other man, for which he was relieved.  

He hadn’t fully turned when a sharp prick to his neck made him yap in surprise and jump away. Whipping his hand up to rub at the sore spot, Daniel tensed and darted his eyes around to find the cause. The mantis inserted itself directly in his path, two of its arms raised in entreaty. He thought, or rather, hoped. It made no further move toward him, head twisting back and forth. Letting his hand drop, he nodded at it with a tentative smile. Jack had better not have seen that, or he’d… 

“Daniel, you okay?” 

Rush over here needlessly. 

“I’m fine. I think it…she?” The alien shook its head emphatically. “ _He_ just wanted to get my attention.” 

“Oh,” Jack breathed, suddenly awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. The other man furtively glanced at his neck, shoulders loosening a bit. Apparently there wasn’t a gaping wound. Again Daniel found himself soothed and perplexed at his friend’s concern. “I’ll just get back to what I was doing then.” 

Reading Jack’s body language, he chose to ignore the not so subtle inspection of his neck and let the other man depart without saying a word. Jack was very, very jumpy. That was very, very bad. Daniel’s sick thought solidified the iceberg in his stomach into Antarctica. As foreign as the face gazing down at him was, he thought he could describe it as bleak. The fact the mantis had reached out to him was as exciting as it was frightening. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to learn what _it_ wanted to teach him. It still hadn’t uttered a sound. 

“You can obviously understand me,” Daniel mused, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. “But I’m guessing you’re not physically capable of reproducing my speech. Is that right?” 

Good. A nod. Yes or no questions seemed the only way to go. The trick was going to be asking the right ones. 

“Okay. Where should I start? Uhm, are we on a planet? No. On a ship? Yes, okay, good. Are we going to a planet? What was that…you’re uncertain? It’s possible?” 

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck as he realized how long this was going to take. Time they might not have, now that he thought… _knew_ …he understood why they were here. He stopped the question session, eyes focused on the empty spots on the alien where limbs should have been. Shuddering, he had a vivid image of Jack without a finger, a hand, an eye. That was not going to happen. He wasn’t right. 

“Are we slaves?” he diffidently asked, though he was sure that wasn’t the case. The mantis again gave him a partial affirmation, partial rejection. “How can you not be sure? God, this is not going well.” 

Muttering under his breath wasn’t going to help at all, he knew, and his frustration was coming off as irritation with the being in front of him. Sighing, he perused the room again. Jack was nearing the exit that was directly across the way, face readily showing his apprehension now. He wondered if the other man was having better luck than he. Stupid. Now he was the one desperate for quick answers. He needed to get himself under control instead of inconsiderately blaming the language barrier for being just that. There was no way to tell that time was of the essence; the atmosphere of the crowd was not one of tension. Not that it was a day in the park either. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be impolite.” 

A benevolent nod. Good, at least someone had presence of mind here. 

“So, we’re on a ship, possibly going to a planet. But for what? Are our captors responsible for your…injuries? Okay, that was a very brainless question. Obviously, if not them, then who else? Do you know why they’re doing this to you? Yes, of course you do. Now if only you could share that with me…” 

The mantis leaned in closer to him as if it thought that motion would help it communicate more effectively. Suddenly feeling intimidated by the intensity of the other creature’s stare, Daniel slid his own eyes away. It was then he noticed they were not alone, two other misshapen prisoners guardedly stood on either side of the mantis, somewhat removed. Swallowing, he noted the one on the right looked familiar. Too familiar with its light brown fur, three remaining pawed hands and vaguely canine appearance calling back the memory of his corpse/roommate. 

Well, that answered a question – there were multiple members of at least one species. Not that that really made anything clearer. The inmate on the left was in sad shape, missing an eye and both of its arms. Gaps in what appeared to be a soft claret exoskeleton revealed numerous surgical scars. With a start, he realized he recognized it as well. The prisoner that had looked back at him earlier with frightened curiosity. 

“Give.” 

  

Tearing his attention from the bipedal lobster-looking alien, he jerked back when he came almost eyeball to tortured eyeball with the furry one. It took him a moment to realize it had just spoken to him in English, and then a moment longer to remember what had been said. Give? What did that mean? Clearing his throat, Daniel felt anxiety return. If he had misjudged the non-aggressive nature of the rest of the inmates, he might be in a spot of trouble. 

“Give,” it unwaveringly repeated. 

It was ridiculous of him, but he ardently wondered why the hell it was taking Jack so long to get over here. Before he hadn’t even been able to complete a thought and now it appeared markedly more like he were being physically threatened, the alien punctuating its one word statement with another step toward him. Daniel had no choice but to countermeasure the action, taking a step back and colliding with something both hard and soft. Oh, boy. Surrounded. He tried a smile, failing to convince even himself with it. 

“I’m sure we can talk about this, whatever this is,” he rambled, raising suppliant hands. 

The creature let out a huff of hot air, so close Daniel felt his eyelashes bend with the force. Trying not to choke on the sour breath, he flitted his eyes around the room without moving his head. Damnit, where was Jack? He reflexively winced as the alien raised one of its arms and brought it toward him, preparing for a blow that did not come. Instead, he felt a slight tap on his shoulder, as if to reassure. Blinking stupidly, he looked more closely at the fuzzy face and was surprised to find a combination of exasperation and concern there. 

“That’s what you’re trying to do,” Daniel mumbled, feeling like a moron. He switched his gaze to each of the three aliens in turn, greeted by nods from all of them. “Sorry. You can’t blame me for being jumpy.” 

Three head shakes. Good. This was good. They clearly understood and wanted to speak to him and now that one of them seemed able, he counted it as progress. He smiled again, this time with more confidence. 

“You said give. I don’t understand. Give what?” 

“Give…away,” the dog-one said. Oh, that was so much clearer. He apparently looked baffled, as it shook its head again and shook one arm. “Take.” 

And suddenly he knew unequivocally his theory was correct. He and Jack needed to be out of here, sooner rather than later. The chill in the air seemed to increase, sending shivers through his entire body. He was jumping to conclusions; he couldn’t be absolutely certain. Denial warred with truth, and even as he knew it was foolish to cling to it, he did. Stupidly and desperately. Shaking out of his horrified trance, Daniel opened his mouth to seek unwanted clarification and was embarrassed when a croak came out instead. 

“Daniel?” Jack’s gruff voice sounded from behind him, breathless as though he had been running. Spinning around, he brushed by the armless alien to draw up to Jack’s side. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his friend’s mouth, making him halt in concern. “Daniel, what’s going on? You look kind of…off.” 

“Jack? What happened, are you okay?” he ignored the inquiry, too centered on the crimson striping Jack’s chin. 

“Huh?” 

“Your lip’s bleeding.” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. Had a little altercation with one of our prison buddies. We reached an understanding,” Jack explained, wiping his mouth with one hand. He did a double take when he caught sight of the furry alien. “Want to introduce me to your friends?” 

“Jack, we need to get out of here now,” Daniel blurted, not what he’d intended to say at all. Jack didn’t appreciate unsubstantiated assertions, even in the tensest of times. Besides that, it was clear the other man had already reached that conclusion and his statement was superfluous. “I know. Sorry. I’ve got an idea of what’s going on here, and let’s just say that if we want to stay whole we should find a way out.” 

“Care to give me a little more than that?” Jack hissed, looking as though he already knew and didn’t want to, much like his own mental rejection. “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that whatever’s going on with these folks might just happen to us, Daniel.” 

“Right. Jack, I think –” 

He didn’t get a chance to finish explaining, interrupted by a familiar bell tone. The aliens immediately started moving back toward the cellblocks, hustling him and Jack right along with them. The silence was broken by a buzz of low voices, which gave the impression of heightened agitation. The effect on his own composure was instantaneous, and it was coupled with separation from Jack. Shit. 

Pivoting around, he sited Jack the three aliens’ lengths away, pushing at the canine one’s attempts to guide him along. Daniel tried to wade his way over to his friend, cut short by a spindly arm. Opening his mouth to protest, he gasped when that same arm slashed upward to cover his mouth. Damnit. He really needed to let his friend know what was going on…before it was too late. 

~~~~~~~~ 

The timing couldn’t be worse. Jack gritted his teeth as the alien that looked too damn much like a ghost tried to shove him along faster. Daniel’s trepidation made all of his senses go on high alert, compounding the apprehension already a common prickling in the back of his mind. He was pretty sure he’d found the key to their captors’ motives as well as the most likely way to escape. 

Unfortunately, before he could actually confirm anything, a big monster of a creature had literally picked him up and plopped him on his ass. It was unnerving to get trounced by a guy who had suffered major, extensive trauma. In all fairness, the thing had still been twice his size. Rolling around on the ground to retain his feet, he had glimpsed Daniel being surrounded by three very intense looking inmates, and his own search had become secondary. 

It was obvious Daniel had also discovered something. Jack just wished they had time to compare notes before act three of this drama played out. Without a watch, he had no way of really knowing how much time had passed since they had been let out but he knew it couldn’t have been more than an hour. So, it was safe to assume this was not simply back in the cages for another riveting night caper or two. His pessimistic inclination was that it was for something worse. Much worse if his friend’s harried expression had any credence, which he knew it did. A couple of years ago, he would have dismissed the younger man’s anxiety as merely a civilian scientist’s freak-out in an abnormal situation. He’d learned the hard way Daniel didn’t customarily get worked up over nothing. 

Shirking off Dog Boy’s insistent paws, he shuffled closer to Daniel while the younger man conducted the same maneuver with the mantis. They ended up sandwiched closely together, and he felt extraordinarily victorious for a mad moment until he remembered the bigger picture. 

“Daniel…” 

“Jack…” 

In stereo. He waited a protracted second for the other man to continue, taking the lead when Daniel didn’t say anything. “Two of the exits just lead into similar banks of cells, from what I could tell. I didn’t get the chance to go down them but judging from this set up, there’s no way out there. When I approached the third, though, a very persistent king-sized thing blocked me. It seemed very certain I shouldn’t go down that road, if you know what I mean.” 

“You think that’s the real exit?” 

“Either that or where the little green eyed things are holed up,” Jack confirmed, nodding slightly and looking over his shoulder. He just couldn’t shake the impression everything they said or did was observed. They were they only ones speaking, and he didn’t want to break protocol and get him or Daniel electrocuted again. “It’s our best bet at this point, unless you found out something else?” 

Steering through some of the slower moving prisoners, he looked for two empty cells directly across from each other. If they couldn’t be in the same one, he’d at least be able to see Daniel; small comfort was better than none at all. The other man opened his mouth to speak, sick expression making him look older than his years, but was prevented from doing so by one of the mantis’ stick-like appendages briskly coming across his mouth. It sharply stabbed Daniel’s cheekbone, eliciting a bark of pain and a spot of blood. Jerking, Jack glared at the offending being but saw no ill will had been intended. Quite an eclectic band of guardian angels they seemed to have picked up, apparently genuinely concerned for their welfare. Daniel shook his head, emitting a frustrated grunt and crunching his jaw shut audibly. His eyes spoke volumes, admonition and unease warring for dominance. 

Well, shit. 

Hustling into his cubby, Jack kept his eyes trained on Daniel as the mantis eased the other man into his. He willed the younger man to go with the flow, his body language threatening rebellion; whatever he had to tell him, it was going to have to wait. The lights in the cells brightened all of a sudden, making him squint in reaction. He hadn’t even realized how dim it had been, the darkness lending to the glum atmosphere. The reversed effect now made him feel as though he were on display in a collector’s box of sorts. No fine jewelry, no crystal. Just monsters, malformed and miserable. With a start, he gulped down a swell of disgust as another analogy popped into his brain – they were selections at an intergalactic deli counter, and he and Daniel were the freshest salads in the place. 

Oh, God how he wished he hadn’t thought that. Jack stared nervously from his cubicle, watching for the greenies to come back, observing Daniel’s nervous shuffling out of the corner of his eye. If past experience bore true for this case, he thought it wise the other man stop moving before the little buggers arrived. Staring at Daniel, he swiped a hand across his throat and shook his head in warning. The archaeologist froze on the spot, pivoting to stand with his hands behind his back and facing out. He nodded in approval, mirroring the stance and giving the illusion of complete calm. The blue eyes firmly fixated on him were anything but, radiating so much dread Jack thought he’d cave under the pressure. He schooled his own eyes to reflect nothing, pleased when Daniel managed to tone down his giveaway appearance. 

This time, there were only two of their captors making the rounds and he thought for a moment this was just a scheduled body count. Pipe dream. Following closely behind the lead two, four more of them came and they were not alone. Cloistered in the hub of the group were three disturbingly human-like figures, the only visible difference being a faint bluish tint to the skin tone, snow white hair and nearly colorless eyes. The entourage aimed directly for their locations, breezing to a stop. A fair amount of chatter was going on as each of them carefully examined both him and Daniel, as if making a comparison between them. He sneaked a glance at his friend, who had his eyes engrossed on one of the new guys. Automatically turning to check it out for himself, Jack swore under his breath. 

One of them seemed different than the others, its skin greenish and eyes yellowed slightly. He was no doctor, and he couldn’t be sure the same would be true for an alien species but it looked to be suffering from some sort of liver dysfunction, the blue skin making jaundice appear green. Oh, no. No, no, no. Reality slapped him with a vicious fist. It made sense, all of it. The walking wounded, the missing limbs, the scars. Their captors really _were_ purveyors of fine, undamaged body parts, serving up hapless aliens on the black market. His suspicions had been right. Jack snapped his eyes back to Daniel as if the other man would be able to refute what he knew to be true and allow him to hold onto fantasy. He was a fool. The only thing he saw reflected in Daniel’s face was unconcealed fear, mask slipping dangerously as the younger man opened his mouth to speak. 

“No! Don’t! Me, take me!” The cries were nonsensical for an instant, all too clear the next. The cluster of aliens were headed right for him, one of them fingering a switch on its wrist. Daniel kept shouting. “No!” 

The inevitable result of the archaeologist’s outburst came with shocking succinctness, his denials garbled with pain Jack knew all too well. Everything moved in slow motion as he watched his friend crumple to the floor, howling in agony and clutching at his right ankle. Simultaneously, a strange hissing sound began all around him, and his head began to swim. Breathing became more difficult, and he vaguely wondered if this is what had happened to Daniel back on the planet. He felt himself falling limply to his knees, the jarring making his consciousness and vision sharpen again. Daniel’s screams had either turned silent or his ears had stopped working, the younger man writhing frenetically with mouth agape and face reddened.  

Something moved into his line of sight, at once a relief and a frustration. A tap on the top of his head directed him to look up, into narrowed green eyes. Without thinking, he lashed out at the smaller creature, his movements uncoordinated and futile. His arm swung uselessly back down and he wanted to rail against the unctuous thing, but his mouth wouldn’t work. Staring dumbly at the jailer, Jack frowned when it motioned for him to rise. Right. His limbs were deadweights, head thick and confused. He couldn’t even do what he really wanted – scramble toward his companion. He did manage to poke his head around the obstruction to catch sight of a now motionless Daniel. Bastards, bastards. 

His mind seemed to be clearing slightly, though his body was reluctant to catch up. The alien still partially blocking his view slapped him sharply across the face, punctuating the blow with a string of vehement, unintelligible words. Damnit. Anger surged, adrenaline pumping through him. He swatted at his attacker, taking a moment to gloat as it crashed to the ground. Triumph was short lived, replaced with a familiar discharge of electric pain shooting up his leg and into his entire body. Groaning, Jack slumped heavily onto his ass and the sensation stopped. It seemed cooperation was mandatory, not remotely voluntary. 

“They wish you to assist your friend,” one of the blue guys whispered, startling Jack with its use of English. “Though it is only you we need, his presence might aid in keeping you docile. You would be wise to do as they request.” 

Request. Yeah, plenty of asking going on around here. Jack struggled to his feet, calmly ignoring the aliens surrounding him. His heart beat faster at the information given, not sure he should be relieved Daniel and he weren’t going to be separated. Something told him it would have been better for him to go alone, keeping his friend as far away from the line of fire as possible. And that was not simply an expression. A cool hand laid upon his forearm prompted him to walk haltingly out of his cell, legs still faintly obstinate. The closer he got to Daniel, the more he could see the other man wasn’t inert at all, rather his entire body shook with residual tremors. Glaring at the gamekeepers, he entered the alcove and crouched down.    

“Daniel?” Jack softly inquired, placing a cautious hand on a bare shoulder. Shuddering vibrations still wracked Daniel’s body, and he unconsciously tightened his hand to shake the other man. An impatient huff from behind made the need for his friend to arouse all that more urgent. “Daniel, you should really wake up now.” 

Brilliant, sure to work. Nervously twisting his head around to check the patience level of the aliens, Jack kept gently nudging at the quivering man. Damn, it was disconcerting to be so intimidated by a bunch of pint-sized critters. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Daniel to find open blue eyes confusedly looking back up at him. He jerked his hand away in startlement, falling on his rear. Recovering quickly, he shifted to his knees and worriedly leaned closer. 

“You going to be okay?” he asked stupidly, pulling at the other man’s shoulders to navigate him into an upright position. 

Daniel wasn’t okay, and judging from how the quaking hadn’t subsided, he wouldn’t be for quite a while. Damn freaking vicious mongrels. He snapped his mouth shut before he uttered curses at their captors, knowing such an indulgence would only bring more pain. Keeping his hands firmly planted on the archaeologist’s shoulders, Jack carefully searched for any kind of answer from his friend. Daniel managed a rough nod, breath easing a bit but still coming in shaky rasps. He really wished he could allow the other man more time to recuperate from the excruciating hurt that had been inflicted but he knew they wouldn’t be afforded that luxury. 

“Let’s get you on your feet.  Apparently we both won free passes to the fair, compliments of the Lollipop Guild here.” 

“No, Jack,” Daniel gasped. “Can’t –” 

“Choiceless, Daniel. Seems I’ve got something they want; I’ve been told not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Guess what? You’re the gift horse. Two for the price of one means you get to keep me company.” 

“You k-know what…” Daniel’s voice choked off suddenly, his muscles spasming under Jack’s hands as the torture was re-ignited. It only lasted a second, but it left the archaeologist gasping harshly again. “God…” 

Gift horse apparently equated to whipping boy in this particular slum of the universe. Jack growled under his breath at the oh-so-subtle reminder for haste and silent cooperation. Enfolding as much of his friend into his arms as he could, he awkwardly climbed to his feet. Praying Daniel could walk at least a little, he took a step forward, spitting, “All right! We’re coming.” 

Every shudder rippling through Daniel was indication of how his hands were tied, and as much as Jack really didn’t want to play Operation with these things, he thought it far and away a better option than letting anything else happen to his friend. He felt Daniel’s head bump into his shoulder once, twice, and on the third pass it settled. Warm gusts of air flitted across his chest as the younger man turned into him as if seeking comfort. He held on tighter, taking as much of the burden as he could; his own legs were still wobbly from whatever had been pumped into his system. 

The stubborn scientist acquiesced easily, chilling Jack thoroughly. He and Daniel had always been alike when it came to accepting assistance; this sudden about face was so not good. Biting his lip, he spared a glance down at his charge, gladdened to see the color on the cheeks returning to a normal tone. Actually, Daniel wasn’t shaking so hard Jack was afraid he would fly apart anymore either. Puzzled that the other man’s need for support had increased instead of diminished, he loosened his hold a bit. 

Slumping into him, Daniel stumbled. Apparently he _didn’t_ have his land legs quite yet. Frowning, Jack clumsily moved his arm from around the shoulders to around the waist, at the same time studying the backs of the aliens leading them out of the hall and into the main room. Daniel coughed raggedly, turning his head away from Jack’s shoulder and tripping again. Even with a good grip on the younger man, he couldn’t win against gravity and Daniel fell to his knees. Before the green-eyed mini-monsters could punish his friend for the discretion, he began hefting Daniel to his feet. 

“Wrist,” Daniel whispered into his ear as he clutched at Jack’s arms and torso. “Control. Watch them.” 

Huh? He sneaked a questioning look at his friend, whose eyes were darting from his face to one of the aliens. Oh. And Jack swiftly understood the odd inconsistencies in Daniel’s symptoms. Damn stubborn SOB… and thank goodness for that. While he’d been busy fretting, the other man had been examining their captors’ every move and sure enough, each of them was equipped with a handy deely-bop on their wrists. As he expected, he and Daniel were being led straight to the hallway he’d tried to enter earlier. 

When they arrived, one of the group momentarily messed with its wrist before they continued on. He didn’t see what it did, but it was clear whatever that thing was, it controlled the shields and probably even the shock devices on their legs. A universal remote. Nice. They’d definitely need to get one of those in order to vamoose. He gave the younger man a squeeze to demonstrate he saw and knew the importance of the information. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as though they’d have the chance to snag one of them any time soon. 

This hallway was shorter and more brightly lit than the cellblocks, and was apparently obstructed by one of those invisible shields. Jack fingered his swelled lip and belatedly thanked the alien responsible for it for saving him a jolt. Rather than being lined with many individual alcoves, there was simply one main set of doors at the end and they steadily proceeded toward it, each step making him more and more nervous. Daniel reallocated some of his weight, lightening his load quite a bit but Jack kept his hold firm. 

The aliens chattered softly around them, and he looked to his friend to see if he was able to interpret any of it. Head tilted to the side, Daniel was concentrating hard but Jack couldn’t see any hint of recognition alighting his expression. Not that he needed to know what was being said, per se, but something beneficial might be gleaned from casual conversation. If only there were a way to make the new blue guys use English. 

They stopped briefly at the closed double doors, Jack holding his breath at the almost sinister possibilities lying in wait for them. For him, at least. He morbidly wondered if the…surgery would start right away once they crossed the threshold into the room or if he had a few minutes to work himself up into a uneasy wreck first. And he still hoped, desperately, that he was wrong. Very wrong. He wouldn’t even mind if it were Daniel to correct his error; hell, he’d welcome a divergent opinion right about now. Please. 

Not going to happen. A tiny prodding fist pushed him in the butt and propelled him into the room, Daniel stumbling alongside him. Contrasting the gloom created by the dank and dirty gray construction of the rest of the ship, this room was bright and gleaming silver, polished metal. He instantly saw an unadorned table to the right, low to the ground and surrounded by numerous tall lamps. Off to the side, a bench held tools of some sort. Shit. Not tools. Surgical implements. Clean, though, he observed with a cynical, internal laugh. Hell, if he survived at least he wouldn’t have to worry about infection. He and Daniel were guided into the center of the room, where they were circled, and Jack was again struck at how intimidating the petite creatures were. He thought perhaps it had more to do with the ever-constant silence they demanded. Screw that. 

“So. Nice place you’ve got here,” he drolly commented, smiling when they all jerked in alarmed astonishment. “Though I have to say if the inmates get wind of how good you’ve got it, you might be looking at a mutiny. Oh, wait. They _do_ know, don’t they? I bet they’ve been in here lots and lots of times for afternoon tea.”    

“Jack, I really don’t think we should antagonize them,” Daniel breathed into his shoulder, tugging slightly away from him. Jack let him stand under his own power at last. 

Daniel was right, of course. He knew that but he also knew he needed to keep the focus on himself and this was the only method he’d ever known to be tried and true. Deliberately taking a step from the younger man, Jack assessed their captors to see if he could figure out if there was a leader he could piss off. Nope. Seemed like there was no clear-cut command structure among this particular group. There had to be more than six of them running the place. He took another step, stopped by a hand on his shoulder. 

“What are you doing? You can’t think this is actually helping.” 

“Daniel, just leave it,” he hissed back, not turning around. “I’ll be fine.” 

“No, you won’t. I can’t let – ” 

“You can and you will.” 

“Jack – ” 

“Daniel.” 

To Jack’s relief, the other man stopped his protests with a discontented grumble and they were once again surrounded by silence. Scowling at the circle of aliens, he was thrown to find them staring at him and Daniel with amused, bizarrely tolerant faces. The afternoon entertainment, eh?  He growled low in his throat, waiting for them to make the next move. 

~~~~~~~~ 

If Daniel thought it would do any good whatsoever, he’d wallop Jack upside the head or, better yet, grab and twist an ear the way his tutor used to do to him when he was a small boy. Instant, non-negotiable pain for the transgression of presuming the Colonel Jack O’Neill Policy of Martyrdom was the only way to go in this scenario. Now the horrible truth had been confirmed, he wouldn’t go willingly to his fate and certainly didn’t want his friend to. There was always a way out, compromises to reach. It bothered him tremendously that Jack didn’t even give that a second thought before proffering himself up as a willing lamb. The act was at once anomalous and expected. 

For the moment, though, it seemed they had reached a confusing impasse. He couldn’t figure out why he and Jack had been brought here with haste, only to be dumped in the middle of the room and stared at. He flicked his eyes over to the tall aliens, the first chance he’d had to really get a good look at them. His attention had thus far been split three ways – on Jack, on the aliens who posed direct physical threat, and on the quivering of his muscles from said direct physical threat. 

It had lasted far too long this time, a ghostly but vivid reminder of the agony. The devices must have varying degrees of intensity, and he suspected he’d experienced one of the upper levels. Daniel really had no desire to repeat it, making this quiet standoff all the more ominous. He wasn’t too proud to admit the thought scared the crap out of him almost as much as Jack’s foolhardy bravado did. Yet he’d gladly endure mega-volts of electricity if it prevented his friend from giving up one of his body parts. 

What an inopportune time to realize their friendship had only deteriorated in the most superficial of ways. Everything that was true and real between them still was; had never wavered even as outward appearances fell apart. He’d do anything to stop Jack from coming to harm. Jack was demonstrating the exact same trait and he really couldn’t bemoan the other man’s actions when he would do the same. 

Swallowing down any lingering objections, Daniel hoped neither of them would really have to make any type of sacrifice. He watched the new aliens as they watched him, noting the unhidden longing in their gazes, eyes projecting dying hope. Crinkling his eyebrows, he felt an unexpected surge of sympathy, taking in that one of them was thinner, more wan and decidedly unhealthier than the other two. He couldn’t fault their desire to find help but he couldn’t condone the method, no matter the circumstances. 

Whatever they were, they weren’t human; azure skin belied that. He couldn’t see where Jack could help them, unless the aliens had somehow determined compatibility with humans, and that didn’t seem likely. Except… Frowning, Daniel traced his fingertips along his stomach and felt the tiny scars there before moving his hand up to the center of his chest. Three of their captors closed in on Jack’s position at last, ready to progress. 

“Wait, no!” Daniel shouted, moving to stand slightly in front of Jack. He braced for reprimand, both from his friend and via the torture device at his ankle. Time, time. He just needed to buy a little time. 

“Daniel, what are you doing?” Jack hissed at him, angry. 

“Please, just hear me out,” he quickly said, lifting the hand from his chest to wave it in the air. He didn’t even know if what he was about to claim was true. Actually, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. “You’re assuming that because I meet your needs, Jack does too. It doesn’t work like that with humans – you might find he’s not a match at all and this procedure will have been for nothing.” 

“Daniel?” 

Contrary to what he knew Jack and the aliens believed, he was _not_ blindly offering himself up in his friend’s stead. The blue guys had obviously chosen Jack and if he was reading their deep frowns accurately, they looked disinclined to change their minds. Daniel put on his best beseeching face and vaguely pointed his finger at various points along his torso. The frowns decreased in severity, but none of their captors spoke. God, he hoped this wouldn’t backfire on him. He thought it likely the surgery wouldn’t be fatal – any good dealer of body parts would want maximum gain from every donor, right? – but that didn’t make the prospect any more appealing. For Jack or him. 

“I’d just hate for you to find out the hope you have turns out to be false.” 

“Right!” Jack suddenly called out, scooting from behind him to stand at his side. He appealed directly to the two healthy, humanoid aliens. “You want to be sure before you go through the whole rigmarole. If you ended up losing your friend anyway, wouldn’t that be even worse than losing him now? Unnecessary emotional investment, if you ask me.” 

Eyes, pale green and pellucid alike, blinked at them in curiosity and consideration for lengthy moments. A faint twinge of doubt filtered into Daniel, remembered disorientation, unpleasant sensations and memories abruptly rebounding. Even if they went this route, would that truly be a good thing for Jack? It certainly wouldn’t be beneficial for any immediate escape effort. Wait, he was jumping the gun. 

When it came right down to it, he and Jack really didn’t know much about their surroundings, had only just ascertained their situation. Time. That’s what this was all about. If worse came to worst and one of them did have to submit to the procedure that he thought had something to do with their livers, he knew that it wasn’t necessary to remove the entire organ in a transplant situation. Survivable. And then they could escape. 

God, what a rationalistic load of crap. This option was the lesser of two evils, and Daniel knew it. As cowardly as it was, he’d much rather see Jack poked and prodded than sliced open. Most preferable, of course, was neither of the above but he didn’t think that was going to happen. Silence thickened palpably in the metal room, bouncing off the walls to bombard his ears. He glanced at the other man to find a calculatedly blank face, a feat he knew he was not mirroring. If even a small portion of the desperation he felt leaked into his expression, he knew it might be used against them yet he couldn’t tame his features. On the flip side, it could work in their favor. He waited for any sign in either regard. 

At long last, their captors began cautiously speaking to each other in the language he so wished he could understand. He and Jack were being weighed, of that he was certain, like the white feather had determined the fate of Sha’re’s soul. He didn’t know which way it would go for them – bad or worse. Too long. It was taking too long, and every passing moment led him further from the belief his appeal had worked. Daniel closed his eyes for a brief instant, opening them again to face Jack. The other man was studying him with a mixed expression of irritation and admiration. He smiled a bittersweet smile in return. 

“We do not know if you speak true.” He jumped at the intruding voice and its use of English, eyes widening as he turned to seek the source, looking up, into translucent and sorrowful eyes. “But we cannot take the chance. He will be tested.” 

Daniel didn’t have time for the relief to set in, one of the aliens manipulating the device on its wrist and prompting a low whine to reverberate through the area. A section of the wall near the surgical table suddenly shifted to reveal a hidden room, empty except for two long benches. Unsurprisingly, he and Jack were ‘encouraged’ to walk toward it and he had to repress a shudder at the implements so carefully laid out, ready for the next procedure. This delay was only temporary, long enough to conclude if the next in line was himself or Jack. He had a juvenile impulse to tip over the instruments, refraining from doing so only at the thought these people might not be all that big on hygiene and wouldn’t bother sterilizing them. 

When they were within inches of the room, he unaccountably lost his balance and went careening into one of the benches. Landing with a grunt, he realized too late he had been shoved none too gently into the enclosure, while Jack was kept outside. Instinct had Daniel back on his feet in a flash, approaching the open doorway with due alacrity. Two steps into the endeavor, he felt a familiar, short burst run up his leg, stopping him with a gasp. At the same time, the wall skimmed shut right before his face, cutting him off from visual contact with Jack’s alarmed eyes. He stared dumbly at his own reflection dully gleaming at him from the polished surface, the pain from the torture box fading quickly, only to be replaced with fear for his friend. A pain much worse, spurring him into ridiculous action.   

“You sons of bitches, open this door!” Daniel screamed, banging his fists against the cool metal. “Goddamnit! Jack!” 

Jack would kill him for being so easy-to-read in a prison situation, but the thought they had been appeased only to gain compliance ate away at his heart. Right now, unspeakable things could be happening to Jack while he was only a few damn feet away, helpless and blind. Revulsion filled him, a sensation of unwanted hands touching him all over weeding its way into his mind’s eye. Daniel was peripherally aware of a dull sting suffusing into his fists as he relentlessly pounded on the wall long after he knew the action to be futile. He fell to his knees, pressing his forehead to the wall in exhaustion. He hurled one last punch to it before shakily rising to his feet and stumbling toward a bench. Choiceless, Daniel, he repeated Jack’s words to himself. Wait was all he could do. 

Wait, and hope for the lesser of two evils. 

Drawing his legs up to his chest, Daniel hugged them with his arms and pressed his eyes into his kneecaps. Already it seemed as though he’d been trapped in here for hours, when in truth it was only minutes. He tried to stop the horrible pictures from popping into his head, but imagination was full on strong and dramatic. It was worse, much worse, to be left in the dark like this, he decided. Better if he could watch the atrocious things being done to his friend rather than envisaging even more calamitous things. The cold of the bench seeped into his backside, the wall’s insignificant vibrations rattling his entire body. It was as if everything around him suddenly had a propensity for exaggeration. With a snort, he resolved to stop his train of thought and focus on forming a plan to get out of this mess. 

Which, of course, was immediately put on hold when he realized much of that depended on Jack’s condition after the aliens were done with him. Daniel swallowed thickly, throat and mouth cottony dry, and lifted his head to lean it against the wall. His own warped image again caught his attention and he lowered his legs to the floor, bending toward it. Even in the blurred mirror, he could see how haggard he looked – cheeks already thinning out and dark circles bruising the skin under his eyes. It reminded him of how he really didn’t know how long they’d been here, how time so easily became unmanageable without any type of tracking mechanism. He looked away, rising to his feet and pacing back and forth between the benches. Expending energy uselessly was also something Jack would reprimand him for, he thought with a mirthless chuckle.  

Back and endlessly forth he went, not unlike a caged animal. A recognizable scraping sound halted his movement, coming from the direction of his bench. Feeding time at the zoo. Ah, would there ever be an end to the analogies for their circumstances? Daniel curiously walked over to the tray that had slid out of the wall, plopping down next to it in weariness. Instead of the whole grain bread that had been served and left uneaten for the morning meal, there was water and a thick, grayish stew. As thoroughly unappetizing as it looked, filled with lumps of an indeterminate vegetable and congealing gravy, his stomach started growling and his salivary glands made a valiant attempt to function. With a shrug, he picked up one of the bowls and a glass of water. He tipped the glass to his lips and took several small sips before it hit him. 

Two bowls. There were two bowls! Slamming the cup back down, Daniel’s palms began to sweat with anticipation. Quickly setting down the warm bowl before it slipped from his hand, he rose to his feet and brushed his hands down the front of his pants. He watched the retractable door as if that would expedite its opening, his stomach muscles tensing nauseatingly. A faint drone gave him a head’s up before the panel started to roll to the side, revealing a very ashen-faced Jack O’Neill half propped against the surgical table, pants balled up in his right hand instead of on his legs. 

Frowning, he wondered what the hell good it had done to strip his friend off but dismissed the thought almost immediately. Uncertain what moving might cause their captors to do, Daniel hesitated and checked his friend over as best he could from the distance. It took him only seconds to see there were no new scars lining the other man’s body or no missing limbs, relief making his shoulders slump and held breath release. 

Staggering toward him, Jack looked ready to tip right over and he chucked his caution aside in favor of meeting his friend halfway. The other man accepted the arm around his shoulder with alarming readiness, Daniel guiding him to lie down. Up close, he saw the telltale puncture wounds covering torso and arms, the awkward movement of eyes trying to focus. Wincing in empathy, he helped Jack put his scant clothes back on, then snatched up his abandoned water. He was unable to stop a glare at the curious onlookers, the response being the door slowly shutting him and Jack in. He stared motionlessly at their prison wall until a low moan prompted him to move. 

“Jack,” Daniel murmured, kneeling next to the prone man. “You should try to drink something.” 

“Yeah,” Jack wheezed, flopping over to his side. His left arm loosely fumbled about, hand missing the extended glass by a mile. The other man grimaced, giving up. “I feel like shit.” 

Personal experience pegged that as a severe understatement. Daniel nodded, cupping a hand beneath Jack’s neck and tilting the water toward his mouth. Most of it hit its mark, leaving only a slight trickle down the cheek. Closing his eyes, Jack relaxed and let him bear the entire weight, head heavy beneath his hand. Gently situating his friend down, he decided a little rest would do both of them some good and since he didn’t know how long they’d be left alone, now seemed as good a time as any. His own exhaustion made its existence known; he shimmied off his knees and onto his butt. Resting one arm on the bench, he laid his head on it and closed his eyes. 

“We really gotta get out of here, Danny.” 

There was a new quality to the subdued assertion that had him alert again in an instant. The primary focus since their arrival had been attaining information to achieve just that goal, but Jack had heretofore approached it with the pragmatism born of years of military field experience. Daniel looked into Jack’s fearful eyes and was suddenly really, truly scared. The other man hadn’t called him Danny for almost a year. He swallowed, the sound loud and harsh in the small, enclosed space. It was as if Jack now knew something more – something worse. Or perhaps it had just sunk in how deeply they were in trouble. He didn’t want to ask. 

“That’s pretty much a given,” he lightly said with a half smile, trying to improve the grave mood. “We will.” 

“No, I mean _before_ one of us has to give up a vital organ.” 

“Any idea of how we do that?” 

“Maybe…I don’t know,” Jack groaned, turning onto his back again and draping an arm across his eyes. “Before they jammed a bunch of really honkin’ huge needles into me – prior to me being completely under this joy juice, by the way – they took off the thing on my ankle.” 

“Really? I wonder why. Did you see how they did it?” Daniel asked excitedly, straightening his curled back and automatically reaching for his own device.  

“Only that they futzed with their wrist controller thingies first. Am I the only one who wishes we knew what to call all of this fascinating equipment?” 

“So we really do need to get our hands on one of those.” 

“You got it, they seem to control just about everything. We’ve never seen a group larger than five of them at a time; it might be worth the risk to attempt a coup,” Jack mused, peeking at him from under his crooked elbow. 

“Provided we can withstand the ‘punishment’ long enough to grab one of the aliens. What about the other guys?” 

“Ah, you just highlighted the two not-so-little problems with the idea. Not sure yet. I figure whichever one of us is the lucky liver donor will have the advantage of not being hooked into the handy-dandy system of subjugation and torture, so if the other can’t hold out –” 

“But that person will also be anaesthetized. Jack, I don’t – ” 

“Think it’ll work?” 

“It’s not that I don’t think it’ll work. I just think there are an awful lot of variables that have to be exactly right for it to…work. With our luck, we’ll probably throw a seven,” Daniel cautiously checked Jack’s reaction, looking for chastisement and getting none. 

“Crap-s.” 

“Exactly.” 

“So, what?” 

“There has to be another way. The other captives might be willing to help us, right? Chances are the surgery won’t kill the donor; if we can just get past this one time – ” 

“No. No, Daniel. I don’t care how high tech these guys are, losing half a liver is going to affect a person in a highly negative way.” 

“I’m not saying otherwise, Jack, and I’m not trying to argue with you,” Daniel hissed. “I’m just trying to be realistic. We’re stuck in a box with nothing to work with here. I don’t see how we’re going to prevent this from happening. Not right here, right now.” 

“Damnit, Daniel, where’s your famous lateral thinking when we need it?” 

“That takes time! I can’t just magically come up with a miracle.” 

“We don’t _have_ time, you just said so yourself.” 

Jack’s angry tone was disturbing on so many levels he couldn’t figure out which one was the worst. What he did know was that the fervor with which his friend spoke called up the terrible fear again and made his heart beat faster. The other man had seen something, and he wasn’t revealing it to Daniel. Puzzled, he leaned forward just as Jack abruptly sat up. He flinched back like he was being physically attacked and internally cringed at the disquiet in Jack’s eyes. 

A query formed on his lips but before he could voice it the door opened, chafing drone sounding like a warning. Inelegantly scampering to his feet, Daniel frowned when Jack teetered to stand in front of him. He pointedly brought himself directly in line with his friend, close enough that their shoulders touched. Reverberations of tension immediately transferred through the slight contact, and he turned to the stony face beside him in concern. Following the gaze, he switched to view the aliens approaching them with steadfast determination, their shared attention all focused upon him. 

He knew. 

~~~~~~~~  

He knew. 

Or more accurately had already known, which made the reappearance of Asshole Jack all the more inexcusable. He didn’t have to look at Daniel to know the younger man understood everything, an almost imperceptible exhalation of air telling him. The first thing he should have done was tell his friend it had already been determined, that his ‘tests’ had proven himself to be incompatible for some reason. Instead, he allowed the all-consuming helplessness rule his tongue, making him unduly harsh to the one person here who didn’t deserve it. Defense mechanism. Poor excuse. He also knew Daniel was right; there was nothing they could do to keep this from happening. He wanted to drop his head in defeat, look down, look away, look anywhere but at his friend now being prodded out of the room. 

Inaction was a word not in his vocabulary and even knowing prevention was impossible, Jack couldn’t stop himself from taking a step in following Daniel’s progression. As expected, he was instantly given ‘cease and desist’ glares from six pair of green eyes, and one of the aliens held up its hand in warning. He took one more step, clenching his fists into tight balls. He couldn’t just stand here and let them do this, couldn’t be locked away in some cell while Daniel was offered up as a savior for someone he couldn’t care less about. Surprised when he was permitted to advance directly to his friend’s side, he took the newfound liberty further by placing a restraining hand on Daniel’s upper arm. Daniel shot him a glance, deceptively calm where he himself was anything but. A minimal headshake had him seeing red. 

“You can’t do this! I won’t let you,” Jack garbled out, not sure who he was speaking to – the aliens or his friend. 

It was stupid thing to say and the second it was out of his mouth, Jack knew he’d crossed the lenience boundary. His hand reflexively constricted as an explosion again sparked up his leg, and he doubled over in pain with a muted groan. The short and not so sweet jolt was merely a follow up to the non-verbal warning from before, demonstrating just how helpless he was. 

“This… is seriously… getting old,” he gasped, trying to straighten up to show his disgust. “You guys…really ought to look into more creative…disciplinary techniques.” 

“Stop it! Just stop it,” Daniel called out next to him, turning to support Jack as the shudders of pain subsided. “You don’t have to do this, there’s _another_ way.” 

To his consternation, it sounded like Daniel was talking to him. Jack looked up, finding his friend staring at him with that implacable, borderline maddening calmness. Whatever happened to not going gently? He was about to comment when he noticed something behind the calm façade. Two things actually – very real fear, and a plea for him to listen. Cautiously nodding, he narrowed his eyes as the other man flicked his gaze over Jack’s shoulder and then back to him. Like a man trying to check out a woman’s body with undetectable sneakiness, he casually gave the cluster of short aliens a look over before pivoting the direction Daniel wanted him to. The donor recipient was shrouded closely by its companions, whose faces were human enough to reflect distaste for the proceedings playing out before them. 

“I’m doing this willingly, I want to help you.” Daniel directed the words to the blue guys, and Jack almost believed them to be true. The archaeologist probably did feel that way to some extent, but a faint tremble in the words belied one hundred percent truth. “Please, no one else has to get hurt.” 

Jack kept his eyes where they were, watching the expressions change from disdain to grateful astonishment. He knew where Daniel was going with the pacifistic approach, and though he hated the idea of letting the other man undergo such an extreme procedure, he had to admit it had merit. God, he hated no win situations. Maybe if he had the chance to cozy up to the two healthy ones, he could convince them to help. It was a long shot, too damn long, and was dependent upon the surgery’s completion. He had to note his and Daniel’s role reversals, a snicker escaping before he could quell it. 

“Yeah, no one else has to get hurt,” he repeated softly, wishing that were actually correct. He glared at the green-eyed gnome wannabes at last, raising his hands in the air. They looked as taken aback as he felt, apparently unaccustomed to their bread and butter negotiating in any way, shape or form. “No more shouting, scout’s honor.” 

A brief nod and a jerk of a head directed him back toward the small cell. He didn’t blame the little guys for not trusting him an inch, certain his eyes weren’t concealing the anger ripping through him.  But nope, he really didn’t think it a good idea for him to be behind closed doors for this, not when he needed to work the O’Neill charm. Feeling unequipped to make an effective plea on his own behalf, partially due to the fact he truly didn’t want to bear witness to one of his friends being sliced open right in front of him, Jack was relieved when the task was taken from his hands. 

“Jack, it’s okay. I’ll be fine, just please do as they ask.”  
  


“No,” he refuted, strangely bolstered by his friend’s frustrating words. He returned his attention to the tall beings. “You’re not going to leave while your friend goes through this. Imagine how I feel. These guys essentially work for you, right? Ask them to let me stay. Please.” 

Begging was so undignified but if he could get them to agree to this, it would give him headway for asking a much bigger favor. He hated negotiations, and really didn’t enjoy being the front man. Oh, he could do it and do it well, but Jack knew he let his emotions dictate reactions too often. Daniel was better at this stuff, though in this case, what with the younger man being strapped to a cold metal table, he probably wasn’t up for it. Jack’s breath was bated as he waited for some type of response. 

“You will not interfere?” 

“No.” Even if it killed him or unless it was killing Daniel. An impatient huff from one of the surgeons conjured up images of the torture device being reactivated, an ‘accident’ on the operating table. Groveling was only one step worse than begging, right? “I swear. Please.” 

Clear eyes studied him as if searching for deception, then there was an awful lot of chatter. Amidst it, he swore he heard a faint ‘yes!’ coming from Daniel but didn’t want to verify it, chalking it up as stress. The other man knew better than to give anything away when it was so important. Jack actually thought for a second he’d be able to pull this off without any damage being done, and he finally did turn to his friend. The features greeting him were somber, slight frown puckering the forehead. One of Daniel’s moral high ground faces. He could practically hear Daniel reminding him he’d agreed, that these people were obviously using this as a last resort. 

Yadda. If push came to shove, he’d take Daniel’s well being over some sick alien’s and wouldn’t feel remorseful at all about it. Well, not too remorseful anyway. Blue eyes bore into him, pinning him down and backing him into a terrible corner. 

Damnit. 

“Your request has been granted. We will all take up positions in the room from which you have just been released; the door will remain open but we must not obstruct the procedure.” 

“Right,” he agreed with more acceptance than he actually felt, giving a slight nod and glancing at a kind face. At least this way he’d have something else to focus on. He gave Daniel one more fleeting look, the younger man returning the gaze solidly as if he knew Jack would be there for him even if he couldn’t watch. “After you.” 

“Your friend will be fine. The Heptace, while their methods are unscrupulous and objectionable, are skilled in what they do.” 

What a comfort. Really gave him peace of mind. He stiffly moved to a bench, sitting next to two bowls of gray, lumpy stuff he assumed was food. Absently poking his finger in the glop, Jack felt nausea rise and he quickly wiped the substance off on the bowl’s rim. He should eat to gain some strength; he just didn’t think he could stomach it. 

“Heptace. That’s what those little buggers are called? Good to know. Incidentally, if we’re going to be spending some quality time together, can I ask what your names are? I’m Colonel Jack O’Neill, lab rat extraordinaire. You can call me Jack,” he flippantly introduced. “I’d say it was nice to meet you but, well, you know.” 

Uncomfortable silence filled the small room, his new friends apparently unwilling to share such an intimate piece of information. He shrugged and said, “Have it your way. I’ll just call you Larry, Moe and Curly.” 

“If you feel it necessary,” the one he had mentally designated Larry agreed. 

“Oh, I do. Look, I understand if you don’t want to chat about yourselves. That’s fine. I was kind of hoping you’d be able to give me a little more information about these HEPA-filter guys, though,” Jack casually hinted, fairly sure his attempt at subtlety was pointless and not really caring. 

“Heptace. They make profit from the pain of others.” 

“Yeah, I got that. I’m guessing their line of work is not something you favor, right? If that’s the case, why come to them?” 

“Believe me, it was out of necessity only. All our attempts to cure Le…our child have failed,” Moe sadly admitted. 

Child. Huh. Jack had thought he was speaking to three males. Which they might actually be. Maybe they were asexual. Huh. Not relevant. He wrestled his musing mind away from the discomfiting but still intriguing thought, cursing another of Daniel’s influences upon him. He normally would have had no interest in these peoples’ cultural mores and standards, and he blamed Daniel entirely for that. Unconsciously, his eyes drifted outward, landing on a very pale, very limp, very unclothed… God. He slapped a hand to his forehead, physically pulling himself away from that image. Those _Heptace_ had better goddamn well be skilled, because if anything happened to his friend out there, their buggy green eyes would be popping out of their heads. And not from surprise. 

“Your violent thoughts are fruitless, Jack,” Larry chided, making him start. For a second he thought perhaps they were able to read his mind. “Your emotions are clearly imprinted upon your face. I suspect our peoples are very similar in more ways than physiological. However, the Heptace cannot be overcome by one or two people.” 

It sounded like the door was being opened, very definitively, but it couldn’t be that easy; nothing ever was. Or… Shit. What’s the worst that could happen? He threw prudence to the wind. “How many people, exactly, would it take to handle a ship of them?” 

“That would depend. Each vessel patrols a particular quadrant of space, with no more than four planets rigged with traps. Their technology is such that crews can be as few as six, as on this ship, or as many as fifteen. Still a very small contingent. I dare say it would only take three or four sufficiently motivated creatures to manage it, provided it be done intelligently,” Moe offhandedly said, watching him for a reaction. “The service the Heptace provide is highly sought, even if it is odious, and they may have become somewhat lax in their security measures.” 

Ignoring the service remark, Jack tilted his head back swallowing heavily. Were they making an offer or simply trying in a hands-off way to help? Obviously he couldn’t do this himself, nor could he count on much help from Daniel after…this. An indistinct noise fluttered its way into his ears, sounding far too much like drill. Or a saw. He would not look, he would not look, he would not look, he _had_ to look. Lifting his head and dragging his eyes open, he automatically reeled back when all he saw were two blue faces about half an inch from his own. His head thumped noisily on the metal wall, faint pain registering behind the irritation.    

“Jeez, back off, will you?” 

“You look unwell. You should eat what you have been provided.” 

“Right, so I can bully my way out of here, all energized by this undeniably nutritious supplement.” 

“Bullying will not be necessary,” Larry commented, shoving a bowl of goop at him while Moe waylaid him with water. 

He snapped his head up, cautiously taking the forced food and drink and eyeing his cellmates. Larry and Moe stood almost strategically, as if purposely blocking his view. Fortifying himself by slamming down the water, Jack choked on it slightly and nearly chuckled out loud when Janet Fraiser’s voice suddenly popped into his head, saying she could have told him that would happen. You had to drink slowly after the wonders of anaesthesia compounded by dehydration he was sure he had. His humor faded as he finally caught a glimpse of the scene behind his live protective barrier. 

The Heptace Munchkins were scurrying about like dogs chasing their tails, almost as if they were panicked. Unthinkingly, Jack abandoned the food, on his feet and walking, pushing toward, almost reaching the exit before he was stopped. He acquiesced reluctantly when he realized the commotion was not one of panic and it wasn’t what Larry and Moe had been trying to shield him from. Nope. It was what was on the table that was more a source of concern. He should have known that right away. His previous glimpse had been abbreviated, certainly hadn’t shown blood and…blood. He did an about face, wondering why they couldn’t have draped something over Daniel, for protection or to give him a modicum of warmth. He couldn’t remember why he’d been so adamant about keeping the fucking sliding door open. 

“So you guys are gonna help us, right?” he choked out, clenching his fists and folding his arms across his chest. The stance was Daniel’s trademark, and Jack slapped his arms down as if they were electric. Larry and Moe didn’t say anything, merely looked back at Curly who was lying on the foodless bench, then back to him with grim compassion and resolution. “Thank you.” 

“We do no more than your friend is doing for us.” 

The words, meant as nothing more than simple fact, reminded him it should have been him on that table. He had been intended as the donor, and he was damn sure things would not have gone down so smoothly had that actually occurred. His scattered mind clung to that information, making him think about something ridiculous and not stay focused on the seriousness of their situation. On Daniel. 

“Yeah, but you wanted me,” Jack joked with forced joviality. “Can’t say I blame you.” 

“This is true,” Larry agreed. “Given the choice between the two of you, Jack, we decided because of your advanced age, such a procedure was acceptable. That way, if there were any complications we would have clearer consciences for not harming someone so young and vital, even indirectly. Surely you can see the logic.” 

Blubbering at the cleverly delivered insult, Jack was rendered speechless for three point nine seconds. Then he caught a conspiratorial gleam in Larry and Moe’s eyes and relaxed into gratitude. He was beginning to really like these guys, and he couldn’t fault their methods. Smiling ruefully, he shook his head, reclaimed his seat and took up the bowl of stew. Dunking a finger in it, he was pleasantly surprised to find it still warm. Thank heaven for small favors. He shoveled a mouthful, choosing to pretend it tasted like sirloin rather than salt-less gravy with mealy potatoes. He ate in silence, mechanically chewing and swallowing just to get the task over with. 

“Jack, your friend’s ordeal is over.” 

His full stomach twisted and threatened to wreak havoc on the sterile floor, making him regret forcing the food down his gullet. He couldn’t tell from Moe’s tone of voice if there was anything for him to be concerned about, nor from the transparent eyes staring at him. 

“Over?” 

“Yes, the Heptace will bring him in presently. You should rise, so the food may be removed and the bench may be occupied by him.” 

Responding automatically, Jack was sheepishly aware he was being as malleable as a toddler, going where and doing what he was told without question. He guessed not all of his and Daniel’s luck was bad if they’d managed to gain the friendship of Larry, Moe and by association, Curly. Perhaps some day they’d even tell him their actual names, but for the time being all he cared about was Daniel. Numbly watching his friend being rolled in on the same, apparently portable, table was difficult to do without making some type of move. 

Even as he’d been developing a potential working relationship with his waiting-room mates, he was aware the same could definitely not be said for the Heptace. And the damn tag on his leg, while unoriginal, was highly overused and not something he wanted to repeat. Sublimating his need for action came by means of clenching his jaw tightly and curling his hands in and out of fists. God, at least they’d put the other man’s clothes back on. 

With an amazing amount of care, Daniel was slid onto the bench and Jack finally, really looked at him. All things considered, the other man didn’t look as bad as he had imagined he would. Of course, he did tend to over embellish sometimes. He waited until the aliens filed back out, all six of them tossing contemptuous glowers at him, which he thought was a little off base. _He_ was the one who had the right to look down his nose – figuratively and literally. Scratching said nose with his middle finger, he flipped them an irksome grin. 

At least, it would have irked Daniel. Vaguely conscious of the activity now surrounding Curly, Jack put his blinders on in favor of having his friend in close proximity again. Contrary to his earlier assessment, it appeared the surgery had been surprisingly non intrusive; the incision was no bigger than Daniel’s appendectomy scar. Frowning at the lack of a bandage, he leaned in closer to see a clear, shiny patch covering the area. 

More to satisfy his own trepidation than anything, he ran a hand up and down the other man’s limp arm. Finding the skin cold to the touch, he scowled at the shoddy postoperative care and carefully maneuvered himself onto the bench. Fraiser again popped into his mind. She would kill him for jostling Daniel around, but he could only do one thing for both of them. He disregarded the imagined disapproval. Pulling Daniel onto his lap, Jack knew he should be discussing escape plans with Larry and Moe, helping them get through Curly’s ordeal as they had done for him. 

That would just have to wait a bit. For now, he was busy with something more important. 

~~~~~~~~ 

As he floated toward awareness, Daniel had a feeling he’d been unconscious for a very long time. Speaking of feeling, alongside the achy muscles, fierce headache, nausea and dry mouth, he detected a much deeper pain. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from, didn’t know if he wanted to…ooh, yeah. He was half a liver or so short now. The chuckle at the offhand way he recalled that event came out as a pathetic croaking moan, and instigated a slight jarring motion from behind him. Deep pain became downright agony, wrapping from his right side all the way across his abdomen. Possibly into up into his chest and down into his groin, though he wasn’t positive on that. He gasped and opened reluctant eyes to find a pair of distraught brown ones peering back at him inversely. Jack. 

“No moving,” he whispered, though if truth be told it sounded more like, “Nuh mumph.” 

“Hey, Daniel. Have to. Water,” Jack said softly. For the life of him, Daniel couldn’t figure out why the other man was speaking in choppy one or two word sentences. “Careful.” 

“Oka-ahh!” Damn, couldn’t prevent the exclamation of pain there. Wincing at the consequential muttered curse from Jack, he bit down on his lower lip, determined not to let it happen again. 

By the time Jack finished fidgeting around in blessed slow motion, Daniel was covered in a cold sweat and his stomach pitched dangerously. Maybe he hadn’t been out that long, if he was still experiencing the aftereffects of the anaesthesia. Part of him wanted to ask the other man how long it had been, if the transplant had worked, if the blue aliens he was no longer sure had been real had agreed to help. Flicking his fuzzy vision to his surroundings, he realized they were back in the cellblock. Well, he guessed the answer to that last question was a resounding no. He groaned in frustration; Jack stiffened. 

A worried ‘Daniel?’ accompanied a beautiful mug of water, but he couldn’t move his arms to take it up. Even though he felt like a baby, he allowed Jack to tilt it up to his lips and moaned again when the relief was drawn away much too quickly. He was so thirsty. Knowing something was for his own good did little to quench a parched throat. There was more soft movement as Jack apparently set the cup down, which thankfully didn’t come with nearly as much agony as before. Head a little clearer, Daniel took more in about their arrangement, embarrassed to find he was essentially cradled in Jack’s lap. Again. His instinct to extract himself was met by a much stronger instinct to keep him there, the other man’s arms tightening around his shoulders to pin him in place. 

“Jack…” 

“Daniel…” 

Oh, screw it. He relaxed and tried to ignore the constant throb coming from his side. The other sundry inconveniences were already dissipating, replaced with about a million questions. It was obvious they hadn’t been rescued or miraculously escaped while he was incapacitated. Disappointed his assessment of the blue aliens had been incorrect, he still wanted to know what had transpired. 

“Daniel, knock it off. I’ll tell you everything in a bit. How are you feeling?” 

One – was he that much of an open book? And two – could there have been a dumber thing for anyone to say? 

“Like someone just removed a big chunk of my liver,” he rasped. Damnit. Obviously there _was_ a dumber thing to say. He didn’t have to see the terrible look crossing Jack’s features to know it was there. He was a moron. “No…I’m fine.” 

“Sure you are.” 

Now Daniel took the time to further analyze himself, he thought he should be feeling much, much worse. The pain was incredible, but controllable. “Actually I am, given the circumstances.” 

Jack let out a long breath that ruffled his hair, though whether it was from relief or disbelief Daniel couldn’t tell. “Good. Larry told me the Heptace’s surgical skills were top notch, and also hinted they had some means to speed the healing process. At least externally; your surgical scar doesn’t look too bad. I don’t think. Presumably, they want their commodities to at least appear healthy. And I think that’s part of the reason you were out of it so long.” 

Daniel wondered how long it took the human body to regenerate organ tissue. Weeks? Months? Grimacing, he decided he really didn't want to think about it; it was better to just be grateful the liver was actually capable of recovering from this type of trauma and that they hadn’t needed something more…crucial. And chances were the recovery would likely give him ample time to catch up on the backlog of work piled up on his desk if... _when_ they got back home. Wait a minute – out of it so long? 

“About eight hours.” 

Eight hours? Confused, it took him a while to figure out Jack had read his mind again, that he’d been lying here in the other man’s arms for eight hours. Daniel was touched and concerned at the implication, cautiously rotating a little in an attempt to view his friend’s face. The dull throb peaked again but he shoved it aside, relegating it to the outside edges of his mind. He put himself in the other man’s shoes, knowing how hard it must have been for Jack to not be able to do anything. Sure enough, closer inspection revealed fatigue lining a pale face and even darker shadows under the eyes. 

“Eight hours? Jack, you…” 

“Just got here, don’t worry about it. They wouldn’t let me stay overnight, bastards, and the morning bell just sounded about half an hour ago. I think,” Jack instantly refuted, anger clenching his jaw muscles and making the words grind out bitterly. 

Ah, that would explain the exhaustion. It must have killed his friend to leave him alone, as it would have killed him under the same circumstances. They might be up shit creek in any other regard, but Daniel couldn’t help but be grateful for the understanding he was finally coming to about his friendship with Jack. He tried to relax in the embrace, starting when an undefined shape passed a couple of inches in front of his face. 

“You up for this? Here, take the water. Just sip it, though,” Jack started rambling, worry seeming to fading a bit as Daniel successfully clasped the mug. The other man let out a deep breath. “You were right about Larry, Moe and Curly…er, the other guys, donor recipient and company; they were willing to help us out. Had a nice chat with them while you were otherwise, um, occupied.” 

“Oh?” Daniel attempted to smile, ridiculously gratified to learn he hadn’t been wrong after all. He took a small sip of the stale water and nodded for Jack to continue. 

“Yeah. They apparently don’t really like the Heptace – that’s the Lollipop Guild to you – or their methods. The plan was for them to get close enough to snag one of the wrist controls for me. I’d have hidden it until we got back here, then recruit help and do the rebellion thing.” 

“Didn’t work?” 

“Hmm, ya think? No, things did not go according to plan but you really can’t blame them. The one stipulation was that the sick one be safely off the ship first. Moe was going to go with him, then Larry would do the deed and stay long enough to deliver the merchandise. The Heptace would have none of it. Once the surgery was completed, they became very insistent all of the good guys leave. ASAP. Something tells me they were onto us. A couple of them escorted only me back here, kicking and screaming, I might add.” Jack literally growled. “When I arrived, you were already here. Don’t know how they managed that.” 

Daniel’s head reeled from the flow of information, and he had to focus only on the gist of the story rather than trying to envision Larry and Moe in his head. More importantly, the tidbit about kicking and screaming had him worried for his friend, since he knew Jack had likely been punished. 

“You okay?” 

“Me? _I’m_ fine, Daniel.” 

Daniel closed his eyes at the bitter self-recrimination in Jack’s tone, understanding the feeling but wishing he could do something to alleviate the inappropriate guilt. He simply leaned his head into the offered shoulder with weariness. Tensing, the other man almost seemed to be holding his breath. 

“Daniel?” he heard at last. 

“I’m okay, just tired,” Daniel dismissed, horrified he’d just added to the burden on his friend. 

Then he realized Jack’s chest and shoulders were still bare and felt a spasm of abashment. Touchy-feely had never really been his and Jack’s MO, especially when they were both half naked. Not that they were frequently half naked in each other’s company. Damnit, even his thoughts were getting flustered. He flopped up about half an inch, sinking back with a muted gasp as he was reminded how foolish a move that was. Rippling pain, where he had thought it tolerable before, became a bear. With exaggeratedly large teeth and claws. 

“If you’re so tired, why the hell are you squirming around like that? Damnit, hold still. You’re going to spill the water,” Jack chastised. 

Speaking of bears. Daniel squashed an objecting riposte a second before it unleashed itself, consciously reminding himself that would do no good whatsoever. Jack was tired as hell, had undergone yet another night _in_ hell, and by the sounds of it had survived a failed escape attempt, which likely hadn’t been pleasant. Never mind the fact he’d been a useless lump for eight hours, definitely a center for Jack’s protective streak and concern. He smiled, took another sip of water and set the mug down. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, that’s it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” Jack sounded flummoxed and an ensuing pause confirmed it but it didn’t last long, the other man clearing his throat gruffly. “Where was I?” 

“The Heptace were onto your plan.” 

“Yeah. Anyway, I think Larry and Moe kind of suspected something like that might happen, so they had come up with a backup plan. Unfortunately, that means we’re pretty much stuck here for the time being.” Jack paused, shifting a little. Daniel impatiently waited for him to continue, writhing around, which only incited a stronger hold on his shoulders. “Don’t push me, Daniel. I’m going on zero sleep here.” 

“Sorry,” he said piteously. 

“Whatever. We’re apparently not too far from the planet we got nabbed from, which I think you’ll agree is a good thing.” 

“P8S 264!” Daniel exclaimed. Thank God, he’d remembered that at last! Jack was not impressed, his outburst making the other man jerk and bang his head on the wall. Ooh. Jack possibly had a concussion. Bad. At least the jostling hadn’t made him hurt; that was a positive. “Sorry, sorry. I just couldn’t remember bef…but you don’t care about that, do you?” 

“Not. Really. And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop interrupting me. Keep with the narrative flow, will you?” Jack snarled. Hello. Jack wasn’t just any old bear; he was a grizzly. Suitably chastened, Daniel resolved to keep his mouth shut. “As soon as they got back on their own ship, they were going to hightail it to _P8S 264_ , which is apparently inhabited by our good friends the Dog People.” Daniel stiffened, about to correct Jack. “Anh! You know exactly whom I’m talking about. After I let them know we’d seen a couple of the Dog People – I mean, really, what else do you want me to call them – they thought they could use that to help gain support. Don’t ask me how. As far as I’m concerned, a species that continually gets caught in these traps aren’t brainchildren.” 

“Jack,” Daniel couldn’t stay silent at the mockery. “You don’t know anything about them. The planet looked pretty deserted for miles around the traps. It’s likely whoever got stuck in them had been hunting or something, stumbled upon them and ended up here. Everyone else would have no idea what had happened to them.” 

“Right. That’s beside the point, anyway. The point is – that plan was supposed to have a quick turnaround time. This ship apparently has an automatic recall for whenever one of their traps is sprung, mostly because there really are only six Heptace on board. Larry and Moe were going to lie in wait for the collection to occur, then hitch a ride back up here to break us out.” 

“But you don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

“I think it should have already happened.” 

“It might not mean anything.” 

“It might mean everything.” 

“Are we going to do this all day?” 

“Would you _like_ to do this all day?” 

Sighing, Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, Jack. Will you please stop repeating everything I’m saying?” 

“You’re not listening to me, Daniel. I’m not repeating everything you’re saying,” Jack said, voice taking on a condescending tone. 

“You know what I mean,” he snapped and let his hand drop. He understood Jack’s frustrations but a dead end here didn’t necessarily put them out completely. “Look, if I’m understanding everything correctly, there’s not a whole lot we can do at the moment. Whether…Larry and Moe come through for us or not. We’ll wait it out a little bit longer and then think of something else; we already know there are some here willing to help us. Maybe they just need a gentle push to actually do anything.” 

Jack huffed, gave a weary sigh, then Daniel felt the other man nod. “You might be right. I guess I’m more tired than I thought. Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod have been by a couple of times to check on us; next time we should probably start working on that angle.” 

“Uh, Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod?” 

“Would you prefer Lobster, Dog and Bug Boy, respectively? Choose the least offensive name set, Daniel.” 

“Fine,” he snorted, though he had no intention of addressing any of the aliens with Jack’s colorful monikers. “But I don’t think we both need to be awake in the meantime. You haven’t slept at all, you should try and rest a little.” 

“You won’t go moving around the second I’m asleep?” Jack warily asked instead of arguing as Daniel had thought he would. Oh, boy. That only demonstrated to him more clearly how run down the other man was. “Repeat what I just said.” 

Said. Not asked, Daniel mentally noted the difference and smiled wryly at his misinterpretation. “I won’t go moving around the second I’m asleep. You’re! I meant you’re. Really, you can’t expect me not to move. We can’t stay like this forever. People will start to talk.” 

“Smartass.” 

“I’m serious, Jack. You need to let me up.” 

“Later. You’re keeping me warm,” Jack mumbled, slurring with drowsiness. 

Daniel laughed quietly at the permission slip he’d been given and listened as Jack’s breathing quickly evened out into long gusts. Lulled by the rhythmic cadence, he became aware of how tired he still was and found his eyelids drooping more and more. He knew he needed to stay awake, yet knew he couldn’t stop himself from slipping into the first real, non drug-induced sleep he’d had in days. He realized, just before unconsciousness fully came, that Jack would probably kill him for falling asleep on watch. 

But at least he wouldn’t be moving around. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Jack had really hoped he’d wake up in his own bed to find he’d had a really long, really peculiar dream. The stiffness of his limbs and too real, familiar sounds contradicted that thought with enough harshness to wake him fully but he kept his eyes closed. It was apparent to him he’d been out for at least a couple of hours, sleeping both much longer than he’d intended and more deeply. He swore under his breath at his carelessness and suddenly realized something wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be flat on his back; he’d fallen asleep propped against the wall, with… 

“Daniel!” Jack called as he jerked his head off the ground and opened his eyes. He was getting that déjà vu feeling in spades. 

“I’m right here.” 

Wrenching his neck and head toward the faint voice revealed Daniel leaning heavily on the wall opposite him, pale and trembling. Jack rolled over and was on his knees in a flash, joints popping loudly. On his feet and at the other man’s side in the next flash, he snarled, “Damnit, Daniel. What do you think you’re doing?” 

Not giving Daniel a chance to answer his very valid question, he coiled his hands around shaking shoulders and gently forced the other man to the floor. Despite his care, he heard muffled gasps of pain, which, when added to kneeling on bad knees, just made his irritation grow. “I’m out all of five minutes and suddenly you’re fit to go walking around? Next thing, you’ll think you can do cartwheels. Sometimes you really try my –” 

“I was thirsty.” 

Three words, softly spoken and genuinely penitent stopped his tirade. Slumping to his butt, Jack took up position shoulder to shoulder with Daniel and exhaled, covertly checking his friend over at close range. With mouth pursed as if to deny pain, Daniel looked as though he should probably be flat on his back, not upright and putting pressure on his wound. The archaeologist had his eyes closed, head tipped back slightly. Jack frowned. 

“Hey, you should lie down,” he said. Daniel nodded, all the more worrisome. “You should have woken me up, you moron. How many degrees you got?” 

“You needed sleep. And I was fine until I stood up,” Daniel murmured as Jack eased onto his back, reclaiming his own spot along the wall at his friend’s head. 

He was suddenly struck by the thought the archaeologist must have put him in a similar arrangement before setting off on the quest for liquid refreshment, causing undue strain to his injury. And _he_ hadn’t even roused a bit. Not good. Not normal. The running theme had always been to get him and Daniel gone; it amplified knowing he was becoming unreliable. Clearing his throat at the disturbing realization, Jack unconsciously brushed a hand across Daniel’s forehead. It was warm, warmer than it should be given the cool climate. Shit. He removed his hand when the other man shifted around and pulled his knees toward his chest, draping both hands across them. 

“I’ll bet. Any sign of Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod?” Downplaying his new concern probably wasn’t the best thing to do, but he couldn’t think of anything else. 

“Not that I know of.” 

“How long was I out?” 

“A while?” 

“Are you asking or telling? How could you not…oh, don’t tell me. You fell asleep, too?” Jack groaned. Stupid. Great coloneling skills – passing out and expecting someone recovering from major surgery to keep watch.  

“You don’t have to say it. I’m sorry,” Daniel hastily rasped, parchedness audible. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Do you really think I’m going to yell at you? Shit, Daniel,” Jack glanced down at the prone man, whose face was upside down to him. The view was too reminiscent of how Daniel had appeared back on P8S 264, except this time resentfulness wasn’t the primary emotion; it was regret. He looked away. The truth was, the other man was probably right to think he’d yell; he would have done so not even a week ago. But it would serve no purpose, and he was angrier with himself than Daniel anyway. 

“Jack.” 

The other man didn’t have to say anything more than his name for Jack to know he was issuing a form of absolution _he_ wasn’t really ready to accept. Sighing, he changed the subject, “Really. But you should have got me up. You stay here; I’ll go figure out the water situation.” 

“It’s about time. I really am thirsty, you know.” 

Daniel’s way of allowing him off the proverbial hook. Laughing quietly, Jack scrambled to his feet and had made it all of two steps toward the abandoned, empty mug when three heads popped around the corner of their alcove, one over top the other. He did a double take; their arrival was nearly slapstick in nature and he wondered if perhaps he had misnamed the groups of aliens. Larry, Moe and Curly, Juniors? They entered the room, Blinkin’ carrying a cup of water between two paws, as though they had somehow been privy to his and Daniel’s conversation.  

“We’ve got company,” he announced, nodding to each of the aliens in turn before returning to Daniel and crouching down. He lifted a hand to take the cup, setting it on the ground as he helped the other man ease his shoulders off the floor. Keeping a hand at the nape of Daniel’s neck until he was able to prop himself on his elbows, Jack was mildly embarrassed when he took in that position left his friend without hands. Sneaking a peek at Daniel, he realized the other man was as uncomfortable as he. He bit back a glib remark, tossing aside his discomfiture. “Here, I’ve got it.” 

The other man took several long sips, pulling back and lying down again to indicate he was done. “Thank you. The rest is yours.” 

He _was_ probably almost as dehydrated as Daniel; Jack chose to disregard the implied order from his team member and tilted the cup to his own lips, draining it dry. Their three new companions remained silent as ever, their presence both reassuring and disconcerting. Any attempt to communicate with them earlier had been fruitless, their attention riveted solely on his prone friend for some reason. For good reason, he amended, again resting a palm across the other man’s forehead. Damn, was it warmer than just a few minutes ago?  

“Damnit, Jack. Will you stop doing that?” 

Tetchiness went hand in hand with fever for Daniel. Shit. Not an unexpected development, but definitely an unwelcome one. He left his hand exactly where it was, glancing up to Winkin’ and company. Three head bobs, understanding translating even through their disfigurements. Jack wondered if every surgery came with complications, or if Daniel had just bad lucked out. 

“You’ve got a fever.” 

“I know,” Daniel tiredly concurred with a sigh. “But it isn’t that bad, and there’s nothing you can do about it here anyway.” 

“Good point. I’ll try to keep my hands off from now on.” 

“It’ll be hard, I know, but I appreciate that.” 

“You’re a regular comedian, you know that?” 

“Learned from the best, Jack.” The other man paused, giving him a small smile. It wasn’t a half bad effort, however tarnished it was by Daniel’s paleness and scraggly crop of facial hair. “I’ve been thinking.” 

“Again?” 

“Shut up. You know how you said you thought we were close to P8S 264? I don’t think that can be.” 

“Why not?” 

“Well, if the…what did you say our captors were called?” 

“Heptace,” Jack supplied. Daniel’s mind was a steel trap; once something was in there, it was really in there. He narrowed his eyes with displeasure, hoping he wasn’t reading too much into the gap. 

“Right. If they’re catching their prey from one place, do you think it likely they’d be able to sell to the same species on the same planet?” 

“Same planet, different region maybe. Where no one would recognize the…donor.” 

“True. But why aren’t there any of the blue, humanoid aliens as captives on this ship? They’d likely be harvesting that species right along with the rest, wouldn’t they? So, why did they have to use us?” 

Well, Daniel’s mind _was_ working just fine but, oh, he really didn’t like where the other man was going with this line of thought. At all. Yet he couldn’t deny the prospect. Jack scrubbed his face with both hands and felt like the horse’s ass of the universe. If there wasn’t any other explanation, he’d have to deal with the possibility Larry and Moe had deceived him and had no intention of honoring their promise. That he and Daniel were stranded here. 

“You think we’re far, far away from our starting point, and that Larry and Moe screwed us, don’t you?” he had to ask, unhappy to vocalize it. He should know by now that not saying something didn’t make it untrue. 

“It is –” 

“No,” Blinkin’ interrupted. Jack jumped at the intrusion; he’d forgotten all about their guests. “Others are good. Friends.” 

“You know them?” Daniel quickly asked. 

“They visit us,” the creature simply stated. “Will help. They do not like Heptace.” 

Nod solemnly bobbed his head up, stick-like arms waving about in secondary affirmation. Jack heard a silent ‘what he said!’ being transmitted, and grimly smiled. He wasn’t quite convinced.  “If that’s the case, why haven’t they already done something about them?” 

“They plan. Talk to our peoples.” 

This time Winkin’ nodded, and Jack cringed at its lack of arms to wave around. 

“To convince them what the Heptace do for a living is morally objectionable. That life is better with natural losses and shouldn’t be prolonged at the expense of others. Get support,” Daniel finished. 

“Yes.” 

More silent head bobs. Oddly comforted by the strange beings’ joint assertions, Jack plopped onto his butt. Hope was still intact, if hanging by a thin thread. “Do you think any of your people will voluntarily place themselves in danger at your friends’ request?” 

“Perhaps.” 

Make that a nearly invisible thread. Was that a not-very-likely-perhaps, or just a plain old perhaps-perhaps? Either one didn’t bode well to him. Even if he’d only been out for an hour, that was nine hours into the backup plan; long enough for him to believe that if Larry and Moe really had intended on helping, they’d run into trouble. Every additional hour spent here decreased the chance of ever escaping. Scowling, Jack had more than a feeling now was the time to come up with a backup backup plan. Time to incite a revolt, as had been initially planned. The Heptace couldn’t zap all of the prisoners at the same time. Or could they? 

“Crap,” he muttered. 

“Jack? What?” 

“Thinking about Larry and Moe. If they are coming back, they’ve obviously run into a snag or something; I don’t want to just wait around in the meantime. However, coming up with alternate solutions isn’t really my thing.” Actually, he _more_ than didn’t want to wait around but figured that was pretty much understood. Daniel needed to be in the infirmary. 

“We still need to get a controller and we still can’t. I’m pretty certain we haven’t experienced the full intensity of those things and I don’t particularly want to, if you know what I mean.” 

No, really? Jack rolled his eyes, squelching the impulse to actually say it because he knew Daniel was more or less just thinking out loud. And he had a point. Whatever they did, it was going to have to be a delicate operation, both for Daniel and for any other creatures recently parted from one of their…parts. He had no idea what a jolt could do to an already weakened person, but it didn’t take much to figure it wouldn’t be good. Larry and Moe seemed to think a handful of people could take over and he thought he had three prospective assistants standing right in front of him, but they’d also indicated it would have to be done with more finesse than sheer storming the castle force. Unfortunately, that still left him with a whole load of nothing. 

Glancing apprehensively but unobtrusively at Daniel again, he saw heightened color in the other man’s cheeks and hollowness in the eyes. Beyond the clear indications of increased fever, though, his friend’s face was set in a manner Jack recognized immediately as the thinking cap look – deep groove cutting in between his eyebrows, lips together in a near scowl. Usually, that expression made him laugh; it gave Daniel the appearance of being constipated. Now it was anything but funny, and he welcomed it. His stomach rumbled, calling all the room’s occupants to attention. Staring down at the loud disruption, his mind started racing. 

“Food,” Daniel mumbled in either a yearning or thoughtful tone the same instant Jack blurted, “How did you get here?” 

They gaped at each other long enough that he was able to figure out Daniel was thinking, not hungry. Well, the other man was probably hungry as he was…but he couldn’t dwell on that just like he couldn’t let himself think about all the subtle signs Daniel was giving of being worse off than he wanted Jack to know about. 

“Exactly.” 

“You said your first night’s…” Jack paused, uncomfortably looking toward Blinkin’ and wondering if he had known the unfortunate alien Daniel accidentally exploded. He tried to phrase his question so it didn’t upset the alien and would give his friend enough to work with, “The first day we here, I should have walked by your roommate before I found you, but all the other cells were empty.” 

“Right. I heard a scraping sound…which was kind of like the same noise the trays of food make.” 

“That might explain how you got here before I did after, you know, the procedure. So, there’s probably a similar, _larger_ , slot around here somewhere. We just have to find out where, and how to open it.” 

“And hope the Heptace don’t have any kind of alarm.” 

Bolstered by the rapid-fire brainstorming, Jack began to feel they might find their own way out of this after all. He and Daniel might not always agree but when they were on the same page, it was a beautiful thing. 

~~~~~~~~ 

Thinking about it in more detail only made Daniel believe he and Jack were deluding themselves. Suppose there was some kind of trap door or secret passageway in each cell – which in and of itself was a Hollywood, farfetched way to think about it – they really had no idea what they’d find or accomplish by forcing one open. Or, actually, what Jack might find or accomplish. He himself was unlikely to be getting up off the cold, hard floor for the next day or two or five. Even if he wanted to, he literally didn’t think he could; him feeling fine a couple of hours ago might have had more to do with the fact there had been traces of medication or anaesthetic in his system. No, most definitely had. He could safely say that wasn’t the case anymore. 

He felt like absolute shit. 

Every movement, no matter how slight, taxed his energy reserves, all of his muscles seemed to have turned into pudding, and his head throbbed incessantly. Still, Daniel had thought he was presenting a reasonable facsimile of good health, tamping down on most of the betraying signs of his true state. Until he’d caught an anxious glance from Jack, which turned out to be the first of many. Apparently he looked as bad as he felt, which was no real surprise. He could tell he was feverish, envisioning the splotches of unnatural red now coloring his cheeks. 

Yet as terrible as he felt physically and how improbable their line of thought would actually pan out, Daniel was pleased he and Jack had found their way to this place. To how it should be between them – working in friendship instead of butting heads. He wasn’t expecting them to trip along happily together; the process had been maladroit and difficult so far and that would likely continue. But now he understood Jack’s _and_ his own reactions better, he had real hope things would be on the plus side more often than the minus. 

“Why would they have it set with an alarm? If what Larry and Moe said is true, they probably don’t think anyone here is smart enough to look for the compartments,” Jack said with confidence equal parts real and forced. “And they paraded us through the entire ship rather than simply shoving me into one. Maybe they don’t think anyone even realizes there’s another way in and out of the cells.” 

Grateful Jack was choosing not to be sidetracked with his health issues, Daniel watched the other man climb to his feet and start to pace the small room, circling around the three aliens at a dizzying pace. Or was he actually just getting dizzy? He closed his eyes, disconcerted when the vertigo effect didn’t abate. 

“And only six of them running a ship with a hundred plus prisoners on board is just plain stupid on their part. They have to rest sometime, right?” Jack continued, voice waxing and waning as he apparently continued his laps. Daniel hoped it was a rhetorical question, because he suddenly couldn’t muster enough oomph to say yes. A soft gust of air floated across his body right before a cool hand touched his forehead again. “Daniel?” 

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, opening his eyes instantly. Damnit, the determination was gone from Jack’s face and had been replaced by concern. Rallying up a smile, Daniel tried to back up his claim. 

“You’re not, Daniel.” No playing off his assertion, no lighthearted comeback. No good. Jack serious tended to mean things really were bad. 

“I know. But I will be. They wouldn’t let a source of income keel over, now would they?” If the other man wouldn’t joke, then he would. 

In truth, Daniel wondered if he and Jack were really all that valuable to the Heptace. There weren’t any other humanoid captives, which suggested to him there wouldn’t be that big a demand for them in this region. Larry and Moe had told Jack they didn’t advocate the black market operation; the rest of their race might feel the same. That, and his and Jack’s revelation of the fact they wouldn’t match every potential buyer made their financial worth very limited. The Heptace might farm them out quickly to those desperate enough, in order to free up cell space. Or save money on food and maintenance expenditures. 

“No, they wouldn’t,” Jack agreed, though he sounded doubtful. “That doesn’t mean we stick around here if there’s a way out.” 

“Did I say we should just wait around?” he asked, then painfully cleared his throat. 

“You didn’t have to. I know it’s a risk, Daniel, but I have to try.” 

“How? We don’t have any idea what to look for, and on the off chance we do find something, we don’t know it’ll really help.” 

“Damnit …” the other man trailed off with a frown, then looked away. Angry was somehow better than worried, even if they were sometimes one in the same. “You. Go get more water, will you?” 

Absently watching Blinkin’ – at least he thought that was its name – shuffle away, Daniel wondered if there was a way to free all the people here. It wouldn’t be right for him and Jack to escape without trying. 

“At the very least, we know they have a different route from the OR to each cell within the banks. If I can get there, I may be able to get my hands on something substantial for us to use,” Jack continued, and Daniel turned his head to find the other man staring right back at him. “Maybe even find the control room or bridge. If we can gain the upper hand, one of these guys may be able to direct us on how to fly this bucket of bolts back to P8S 264.” 

He knew it didn’t matter at all what he said; Jack was going to take action whether he thought it a good idea or not. Simply nodding his head, Daniel tried to pretend he didn’t notice the now undisguised concern dominating the other man’s features. It didn’t look as though it would disperse any time soon, and he decided he preferred it to the anger. He’d better get used to it. Or he could just close his eyes and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. That sounded like an excellent idea, actually. 

Hoping the dizzy feeling would subside enough so he could actually sleep, Daniel let his eyes fall shut and was relieved when Jack didn’t instantly push for him to stay alert. He let himself drift to the edge of unconsciousness, keeping present enough to hear what was happening around him. Helping the other man and their new alien friends search for the hidden entrance/exit to the cell was out of the question anyway. He hoped his friend didn’t take his silence as some sort of rejection or withdrawal. If Jack honestly believed there was a way off this ship, he was all for taking their leave. He just couldn’t move a muscle to help. A second later, the sound of fabric ripping contradicted that assertion, his whole body startling at the unexpected noise. Before he could open is eyes, though, something cold and damp was placed on his forehead. He’d forgotten how warm he was, and the coolness felt so good he sighed. 

Jack chuckled. “You really are a cheap date, Daniel.” 

A little surprised and embarrassingly pleased at the reference from five long years ago, Daniel opened his eyes and managed a small grin. “Well, at least you haven’t confused cheap with easy.” 

Snorting, Jack removed the makeshift washcloth, re-doused it, then swiped it across the back of his neck. Daniel moaned in appreciation and strongly reconsidered the easy thing. On cue, his friend quickly slapped the cloth back onto his forehead with a muttered ‘You’re dreaming’ or something along that line. He blinked bleary eyes at the other man in mock innocence, feeling better more as a result of the banter than the cooling rag and water. 

Then he started to wonder why Jack wasn’t proceeding with his plan, twisting his neck and head around at a directive head bob. Winkin’ and Nod were diligently examining the cell’s walls, leaving Blinkin’ and Jack free to hover over him like a couple of mother hens. He snickered at the vivid, colorful image of Jack decked out in feathers that sprang to mind, pretty sure his fever was rising again. 

“I figure we don’t have much time before we’re locked down for the night,” Jack said quietly, back to business in a snap. “And I don’t actually know how we’ll open the compartment once we find it.” 

Daniel was relieved to hear Jack’s words containing something other than complete confidence; it saved him the effort and the irritation he’d likely get from his friend for mentioning something. Jack had a point – they didn’t get utensils with their infrequent meals and there was nothing in the cells or in the common area he could think of to use. Suddenly thirsty again, he raised his head off the floor and sought out the mug of water. The cloth strip toppled from his forehead, covering his left eye as he latched onto to the coveted container and lifted it toward his parched lips. 

So he was completely unprepared for the full nelson on his head as Jack wrestled him back down, albeit very gently. His fingers let go of the mug, sending it clanging to the ground and spilling its precious contents all over his left hip. Rolling away, the cup made a huge racket throughout the room and he looked up at Jack to find the other man’s attention directed on that rather than him. Good. Daniel picked at the soaked fabric of his pants, pulling it away from his skin and letting it slap back down. He was still so, so thirsty. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he wished there was more moisture to take from them. 

“The cup!” Jack crowed, holding the object up like a prize fish. His friend excitedly looked down to him, face instantly losing its animation. “Crap, I’m sorry, Daniel. Blinkin’, you…” 

Jack stopped talking, as the alien had already scampered off to replenish the small water supply. Dropping his hand, Daniel smiled again. That particular tactic seemed to be losing its effectiveness; the other man didn’t relax at all and he saw a definite clenching in the jaw muscles. He let the smile fade, trying to think of something else for his friend to focus on. Slowed by illness, it took him a while to realize there really wasn’t a need for him to devise an attention diversion. 

“I’m just thirsty, Jack,” Daniel whispered. “Really, I’m fine.” 

“I wish you’d stop saying that. It doesn’t help.” 

“What were you going to say about the cup?” he asked, changing the subject without skill or subtleness. 

Giving him a long-suffering stare, Jack obviously understood the ploy but just nodded and tossed the cup back and forth between his hands. “Well, it’s not the ideal tool but it is metal and might be strong enough. If we can find the entrance, maybe I can pry it open with this.” 

“Makes sense.” 

“It does?” 

“Of course,” Daniel assured, really not convinced he wasn’t telling a great, big whopper. “Maybe you could try to flatten it, double the strength.” 

“Good idea,” Jack said with admiration, putting the cup on its side and compressing the top of it together. The metal gave a little too easily for Daniel’s liking, and his doubts it would be of any use at all increased. “They’ll be easier to hide if they’re flat, too.” 

Opening his mouth to give a joking suggestion on where Jack could hide the flattened cups, Daniel got out only the first syllable and was interrupted by several things at once: Winkin’ and Nod rushing over, Blinkin’ returning with water and the toll of the evening bells. In a tear, Jack sped away from him while Blinkin’ helped him take a couple of sips. He eased himself up on both elbows, rolling slightly to his side in an attempt to see what progress had been made with the wall. Big mistake. Huge. Even rolling to the left put enough pressure on his surgical wound to set fire to his insides, a potent reminder all was not well. Like he really needed a reminder. 

He flopped back to the floor with a solid thump and a soft groan he tried, unsuccessfully, to contain. Hoping Jack was too busy to have heard it, he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, fully expecting the other man to be back at his side. Instead, a furry face floated directly above his, expression categorically worried. If a dog could look worried. Shaking his head, Daniel tried to brush aside the concern with a wave of his leaden right arm. 

“‘S okay,” he murmured. “Just zigged when I shouldn’t have zagged.” 

“Zagged?” Blinkin’ repeated, if anything its face becoming more twisted with concern. “Get Jack?” 

Yeah, Daniel guessed zagged might sound kind of bad if you didn’t know what it meant. He sucked in as deep a breath as he could manage without causing more pain. God, why was this flaring up all of a sudden? “No, don’t get Jack. Actually, you should get out of here, all of you.” 

“Night.” 

“Right. Go tell Jack to go before the Heptace notice something. We all can’t be in here. Shit, it might already be too late.” 

“What might be too late? You moved. Damnit, Daniel…” Jack suddenly appeared, frown creasing his face with harsh lines. 

Daniel was honestly stunned that his earlier movement was noticeable, his mouth flapping open in astonishment. The other man continued to scowl at him, unmindful of the fact he should be getting into his own cell before the Heptace came to check on the prisoners. Unmindful of everything except him, apparently. An icy hand pushed too hard on his abdomen, eliciting a choking yelp as the pain magnified from a dull roar to a sharp scream. Jesus. He felt his legs twitch in reaction to the agony Jack was causing, open mouth slamming shut to prevent a real scream. Hissing through his teeth, he tried to slide away. 

“Jeez, don’t move. You’re bleeding.” 

“Bleeding?” Daniel gasped. That couldn’t be right; he’d barely moved. 

“It’s not much, just don’t move anymore,” Jack declared, but his expression cancelled out the allegation. The other man swore softly under his breath, putting both hands on Daniel’s side momentarily, then moved one up toward his shoulder as if to keep him pinned down. He realized he was still squirming. “Please, Danny, don’t move.” 

“You have…unh.” 

“Don’t talk, either.”  
  


“Jack, go…you have to,” Daniel breathed. He fluttered his hands toward the source of agony, feebly shoving at his friend’s fingers. Grayness clouded, adding to his already blurry vision, and he blinked repeatedly as if that would clear everything up. The pain was subsiding slightly, enough for him to regain control of his breathing and his voice. “They’ll…find out. Escape. I’m okay. Go.” 

“Shit, shit,” Jack softly swore, keeping his hands fixed exactly where they were. “It’s too late. It’s okay, I’m not leaving you here. I won’t.” 

Jack had misunderstood him, must have forgotten the night bells had rung. Three dark shapes loomed over his friend’s shoulder, and Daniel felt a stab of remorse. They were all going to get hurt if they stayed in this room. With relief, he noted Blinkin’ trying to shepherd the rest of them out before it really was too late. Remembering how the shield had been raised so quickly the first night, he didn’t have much hope for them. Jack was choiceless now. The Heptace wouldn’t let him stay, and would probably shock him terribly. All of them. 

“No choice. They’re coming.” 

“What?” 

“Heptace.” 

“Oh…no,” Jack growled, pulling back slightly. 

Letting up on the pressure? Daniel couldn’t tell; everything had thankfully numbed quite a lot. If he really considered it, he wasn’t sure that was truly a good thing. Shock could be setting in, and without Jack to keep him warm, he would be in serious trouble. Leaning in closer, the other man moved the hand from his shoulder to his forehead; his teeth chattered loudly, more confirmation of shock he didn’t really need. Swearing, Jack withdrew his grip and kind of waved his arms around as though he wasn’t sure what to do, first reaching out and then retracting them. 

Jack wasn’t given the chance to decide anything, a loud commotion from the door snaring his attention. Even without being able to move, it was obvious to Daniel their time was up. His friend shouted something – he couldn’t understand what – before setting his jaw and turning back. Giving a rough approximation of a headshake, Daniel wanted to tell his friend not to be belligerent but doubted the words would be heeded. No matter how much they both knew they needed to stay together, the chances of that actually occurring were slim to none. In a different situation, he might have found the reason for the Heptace’s strange insistence regarding that particular factor interesting to explore. Not that they had a reason other than to maintain dominance and control. Snuffing back a laugh, he shivered and gritted his teeth to stop the chattering and the pain instead. 

Squeezing his eyes shut for just a second, he tried to tune out the sounds of their alien friends succumbing to the torture devices. Impossible task. When he opened them up again, Daniel couldn’t find Jack anywhere and panicked despite the fact he had known his friend wouldn’t be with him anymore. Arching his back up off the hard floor, he realized it wasn’t so hard after all and he was no longer prone. Confused, he stiffened in preparation to fight whoever had a hold on him. 

“Easy, it’s me.” Jack’s gruff voice had never been so melodious. Daniel sagged again, wondering if their captors had had a change of heart. Then Jack was speaking again, but not to him. “I’m not leaving. You can zap me all you want.” 

“No…Jack,” Daniel mumbled and tried to pull away. 

Pissing the Heptace off wasn’t going to help anything; the likelihood of surviving and getting out of here so much higher if only one of them was injured. If his muddled brain could reason that, Jack certainly could. Opening his mouth to tell the other man just that, a familiarly intense sensation cut through his numb limbs, tolerably so at first before it broke through the shock. Then he was burning, screaming out in agony and struggling for breath. Nothing existed except this inferno raging through his tender insides, sounds around him vague through the shrieking static in his ears. Except one voice, clear and angry and right. 

“Jesus Christ! Turn it off, you’re kil – ” 

~~~~~~~~ 

Without hesitation or thought to the physical ramifications of his actions on the man in his arms, Jack let go and slid away. He cradled Daniel’s head to the floor carefully as an afterthought, not wanting to add concussion to the terrible list of injuries his friend had already suffered. The archaeologist was frighteningly still, skin completely absent of the fever color that had been on his cheeks a few short minutes ago. Two Heptace encroached through the invisible barrier, ignoring Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod to aim directly for him and Daniel, scowls strange on their delicate features. 

Swallowing heavily, he averted his eyes and kept them pinned on his limp friend, the echo of screams still pounding through his head and the reverberation of muscles strumming in pain lingering in his hands. He didn’t know, though, if the screams bothered him as much as their abrupt end and the ensuing silence and motionlessness. For a terrifying moment, he had thought the attack had killed Daniel, grief instant and devastatingly raw. When he detected the faint rise and fall of the other man’s chest, compliance had become automatic. 

God, he should have anticipated it. Stupid. So far this trip had been no treat for either of them, but Daniel had been crowned whipping boy almost immediately; that the Heptace would jolt him and let Jack watch was an obvious maneuver. It had been as though he had literally shared his friend’s pain through their touch. 

He resisted the need to touch Daniel again, make certain he was still alive, concentrating instead on controlling the building rage. Barely aware of activity off to the side, he surmised their newfound friends were being forced away and he felt a stab of regret for causing them further harm. And for the loss of an opportunity - their captors were clued in now. Jack doubted they were stupid enough to continue their negligent security, especially considering one of the little fuckers was picking up his makeshift tool and eyeing it with definite suspicion. 

“What, did you think we wouldn’t at least try to get out?” Jack grumbled, breaking a major rule of captivity. Again. “Bastards.” 

He didn’t even care if they punished him. A surge of electricity was a far cry better than being taken from Daniel when he knew the younger man had been slipping into shock…was definitely in shock now. Without help, the archaeologist wouldn’t last the night and he knew it. What worse punishment could there possibly be than knowing a friend was dying and not being allowed to do anything about it? And as he thought it, he knew that was precisely what was going to happen. Stomach falling into his feet, Jack crawled closer to Daniel’s side as if that would put off the inevitable. Unsurprisingly, his actions produced an immediate response, a mere sputter from his ankle bracelet and a pointed look to his friend’s body to presage future events if he attempted to stop them. 

Growling low in his throat, Jack just watched as the two aliens continued to minister to his friend with outward appearances of care. He didn’t imagine for one second they actually did care about Daniel or his condition, already having worked out that he and his archaeologist friend were of limited value in this place. Probably as far as the Heptace were concerned, losing one of them would simply free up space for another, more valuable donor. Frantically trying to devise a means to convince them otherwise, he helplessly watched as the other man was slid cautiously across the floor toward the compartment entrance he had been trying to pry into. Blinking in bewilderment when the Heptace changed their secretive procedure, a section of the wall hissing open to reveal a long plank, nearly level with the floor. 

Daniel was gingerly placed on it, then he and the panel glided back into the wall. Gone from Jack’s paltry, vain protection. Not gone were the cries of pain, the cries he had never wanted to hear again and had failed to prevent. He fisted his hands tightly, trying to quell the sounds and concentrate on the doorway that had been revealed. The two small aliens leered at him as they dispassionately passed by to exit the cell, stealing his attention, and it was as if he was frozen in place. Only when they’d completely left his sight did he slump against the wall, closing his eyes in frustration and anger. He uselessly replayed everything, focusing on how careful the Heptace were with his friend and using that to foster hope they had removed Daniel to help him, not hurt him. 

Yeah, because they’d been so kind thus far.  

“Goddamn advanced healing technology obviously isn’t working!” Jack angrily spat into the nothingness, worry rankling through every ounce of his being. 

Larry and Moe had sworn the Heptace were good at what they did; Daniel shouldn’t be bleeding nearly a day after surgery, nor should he be feverish. Snapping into action, Jack fumbled his way over to the wall his friend had disappeared behind just as the overhead lights dimmed to their nighttime level. Good. Dark had to be an advantage for his mission to pry the goddamn concealed door open with his freaking fingers if he had to. The outline of the compartment was stamped onto his brain, and he knew exactly where to begin. This flimsy barrier wasn’t going to stop him from helping Daniel. Absolutely not. 

Ferociously determined, Jack ran his fingertips across the almost flawlessly smooth surface until they snagged on the thin line. He pressed his face so close to the wall he felt the metal warming with his breath, moisture collecting on it in tiny droplets. It was getting colder, a predicament he attributed as further punishment for him. Hazily hoping it wasn’t a prison-wide sentence, he quashed the disrupting thought and plowed ahead with his task. Getting to Daniel was the only thing of importance now, the way to do so tangible and cruel. His nose started running with the cold, his fingers numbing and becoming less than effective tools. 

Well, apparently the little buggers _were_ capable of creative punishment. Cursing, he pounded the wall once and rested his forehead on it as he realized he was screwed. Without anything else to use and the coldness taking away the flexibility of his fingers, there was no way he was getting in. An image of Daniel’s bloody side and ghost white skin appeared in his mind’s eye, tearing him out of the momentary lapse. He scratched at the crack with renewed spirit, refusing to yield to the odds. He couldn’t just sit here, absolutely couldn’t sleep while anything could be happening to Daniel. As if pure force and will could accomplish the impossible, Jack attacked the wall with everything he had – pulling, prying, scrabbling and scraping as if his own life depended upon it 

And it eventually paid off. With almost comic suddenness, the corner he was working on bent away from the wall and he went flying back. Falling on his butt, Jack idiotically stared at the tiny gap for several long blinks before scooting into action again. Repositioning himself, he noticed his arms were trembling as if from overexertion, and he let them drop for a second. He glanced down at his hands, jumping when he saw dark stains streaking his fingertips. Damn. Blood? Unconcerned at the actual physical injury, Jack still knew he had to assess himself before continuing to wreak havoc. Wouldn’t want to upset the Heptace by damaging the merchandise. 

Sniggering at the sarcastic thought, he lifted his hands and examined them. Fairly significant grooves cut into both of his index fingers, the others sustaining moderately less slices. Nothing too serious. Still, when he got back to the SGC, he likely wouldn’t be able to write a report for a while. Daniel would have to… Ignoring the torn flesh, Jack started poking at the slight opening. He tugged at it tentatively, spears of pain now suddenly making a belated appearance. Shit. His hands curled arthritically, cramping and refusing to cooperate. Worthless hunks of flesh attached to the ends of his arms. He hissed in irritated pain, rubbing the hands together to try and ease the cramps. 

Rest. He’d just rest a bit, let them relax on their own, and then he’d carry on. Daniel would be fine. Daniel _was_ fine. He had to be. The screams echoed and he tried again to muffle them, humming tunelessly. Leaning his head on the icy metal, Jack felt the sharp edge dig into his forehead but he didn’t care. He drew his legs close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them to regain a small amount of warmth. Trying not to think of the inactivity as some sort of betrayal to his friend, he closed his eyes and drifted. Two minutes. That was all he really needed. 

He got one. The morning bell rang out loudly, echoing through the hall and forcing his heavy eyelids open. Lifting his head, the first thing Jack saw was deep red on the wall in front of him. More blood? He sighed, raising a surprisingly uncramped hand to the source – a cut on his forehead from the slight breach. Frowning, he peered closer at the stain on the wall and noticed it was dry and flaking off. Shit. How long had he really been out? 

He stretched his arms, flexing his fingers to start off a fresh round of throbbing pain from each digit. The light brightened, and he saw the damage he’d inflicted much more clearly – the grooves he’d tossed aside as insignificant in the darkness revealed themselves to be quite bad, even in his own estimation. Torn to shreds might come close to an accurate description. Oh, Fraiser was going to have a field day with him. And Daniel. 

Daniel! Damnit, what was he thinking? Jack wedged his wounded fingers into the narrow fissure and yanked with all his might, ignoring the fact the morning ritual wasn’t being followed. No bread and water popped miraculously out of the wall, the shields were not released and the prisoners all remained where they were. He didn’t care about any of it, only that he’d _fallen asleep_ and left Daniel to God only knew what again. He didn’t even care if the Heptace came and found him struggling in this pointless battle. And it was pointless. Aside from the first initial crack, he hadn’t managed to do anything further. 

He heard footsteps approaching, and he slumped his shoulders. The reason for the break in morning ritual became apparent as he pivoted around to find a gathering in front of his cell. A gathering that consisted of two of Larry and Moe’s people, eyeing him up and down with satisfied nods. Great. Morbidly, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he was needed for and reflexively conducted his own assessment of the new players. One of them returned his stare with an uncannily sympathetic, almost ill look upon its face. Disturbed for some reason, Jack moved his eyes to the other, which blankly blinked at him. Nothing appeared wrong with either of them. 

“So, what’s your fancy?” Jack called out to them, disregarding the peeved exclamations from the contingent of Heptace. “You name it and it’s yours, apparently. ‘Fraid the hands are shot, so I hope you don’t have a nasty case of gangrene or something.” 

For emphasis, he lifted up his hands and wiggled his thick-feeling fingers, startled when the shorter of the two blue aliens let out a small cry he hoped was regret. They _should_ feel bad. Jack struggled to his feet, calmly walking toward the door. If he were lucky…fat chance…Daniel would be in the OR and they’d at least finally get to be in the same place. He’d know for sure what had happened to the younger man. As he neared them, one of the Heptace menacingly lifted its wrist as a warning, fingers toying with the control. He sighed at the dramatics. 

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m not going to fight or anything, so don’t worry.” He didn’t know why, but he inserted as much defeat into his tone as he could. It really wasn’t all that difficult. 

In the back of his mind, he thought maybe playing the pity card would work with this new set of blue guys. Foolish, given how miserably it had failed with Larry and Moe. Admittedly the biggest horse’s ass in the universe, here. An audible intake of air pulled his eyes up and they connected with the smaller blue alien’s, locking for an awkward moment until the clear set blinked slowly. Jack narrowed his eyes. There was something really odd about the person, something he couldn’t define. Familiar, maybe? He flicked his gaze to the other again, frowning when his scrutiny was met with a slight stiffening of the shoulders as if the alien was coming to attention. Peculiar. He blinked. 

“Got nothing to say?” Jack taunted, knowing perfectly well they could understand him. Both simply shook their heads, and he snorted. “Not even a hint?” 

Two more solemn, firm headshakes. It was almost as if they were flat out refusing to speak, the smaller again holding his gaze for a prolonged period. What the hell? Feeling as though he was missing something hugely obvious, Jack fell into silence and let himself be marshaled down the hall. He gave a tight smile to Winkin’, Blinkin’ and Nod on his way by, glad to see they were still in one piece. Relatively speaking. They stared back with obvious distress, though he couldn’t tell if it was for him or for the lost chance of escape. Either way, he regretted not being able to help them. Frowning, he looked straight ahead. The blue aliens walked in front of him, and he took the opportunity to search them for whatever it was he was missing. 

It hit him like a runaway train – the shorter of the two had a very recognizable gait, completely feminine. Unlike Larry, Moe, Curly or her companion, she was definitely a she. And she was definitely Major Samantha Carter. Jack almost let a huge grin split his face, tackling the urge back under control in the nick of time, relief overwhelming. He coughed, doubling over to stop the procession. A tiny hand prodded him in the butt to get him moving again, which he did only after he gave the ‘aliens’ a knowing look. Carter blinked at him twice, her own smile slanting the corners of her mouth, followed by a worried frown that had ‘Daniel?’ written all over it. 

Sobering, Jack straightened his shoulders and gave her a bare shrug of his shoulders and shake of his head. God, he wished he knew the answer to the implied question. His mind and stomach roiled, as sick as he was ready to find Daniel. She deftly sneaked a glance with the other person. He knew there must be a plan, and he had every confidence in Carter, but he wondered how much of it depended on him and Daniel being found at the same time. 

Didn’t matter. Carter was adaptable; she probably had about a zillion backup plans running through her head already. Keeping his eyes on her and the other one…Siler? No, couldn’t be. Siler was strictly a technician, he’d never go through the ‘gate. Jack watched them for any signal, then realized he’d be of little help, his hands useless and undernourishment having a noticeable effect on his muscles even after only a few days. The only thing keeping him from leaning on the wall for support was a refreshing flow of adrenaline. Finding Daniel alive. 

He impatiently fidgeted while the Heptace let them into the hall toward the OR, eyes now riveted to those doors. Daniel had to be behind them, and he had to be okay. Carter spared him a small look, picking up on his increasing apprehension. Remembering she was going on even less information than he was, that she didn’t know what had happened to the other man last night, Jack tried to settle down as the doors opened and he was prompted through. The Heptace chattered at Carter and the nameless soldier, giving them directions or something. Knowing the two in blue weren’t able to understand the language, he stiffened in readiness to fight. Carter shook her head while the other guy started chattering right back. Of course – not Siler. Not even human. Shemp, he automatically christened. He really did smile with relief, relaxing. 

Four short steps of relief, and then he saw Daniel. He ran toward the limp figure on top of the operating table again, bathed in magenta light, and made it nearly halfway when a surge felled him. Landing heavily on his hands, Jack let out a garbled cry of perturbed pain. Never removing his eyes from his unconscious friend, he crawled through the pain, which cut off after a few sharp words were exchanged between Shemp and the green eyed mini-ghouls. Messing with the merchandise at the point of sale was such bad business. Relieved of the electric current, he ruefully realized how stupid his actions had been – Carter and Shemp really might still need his help to pull off whatever it was they were going to pull off. He slumped down for a second, resting his head on the floor. 

“Right,” Jack snarled as the rest of the party drew in around him. He raised his eyes to witness Carter fighting not to react as he had, her eyes flitting between him and Daniel. Lingering on Daniel. “Sorry about that. Human nature, ya know. And I was serious before about you needing new and exciting ways to discipline.” 

Carter opened her mouth, a virtual remonstrative ‘Sir’ floating to him even though she caught herself before actually saying it. Yeah, so he was being a little wordy. And snippy. He had the right. Picking himself up off the floor, gritting his teeth as his hands reacted unfavorably to pressure, Jack continued on his path. They could kiss his ass if they thought he was going to merrily walk on by Daniel without checking him out. 

“It is all right,” Shemp softly said, his voice clearly not Sergeant Siler’s. Why was he still obsessed with that thought? Jack stared at the alien. “We understand your concern for your friend. We also wish to assist you with your own injuries before we continue with the procedure.” 

Dumbly looking at his hands, he tried to figure out what the hell difference it made whether or not they doctored him up before cutting him open. He shook his head, gave a dismissive wave of his battered left hand and finished the few steps toward Daniel. It was difficult to tell how his friend actually was, the soft pinkish light an efficient camouflage to the natural skin color. Noticing at last the table was lined with thin beams, he put his hands out and felt warmth emanate from the light. Jack scowled as he equated the set up to a food warmer in a fast food restaurant, the only external indication the Heptace had done anything at all for Daniel. 

They’d put him in a freaking food warmer, as if that would be enough! Blood, dried and crusty, mottled the archaeologist’s torso, almost black in the strange light. Forgetting Carter was there, Jack choked out an indistinct curse and wrathfully took a step toward the closest little mongrel, useless hands up and ready to throttle it. A warm touch of cloth to his forehead pulled him up short and he jerked in sudden recognition now was not the time for him to go berserk. Carter softly brushed a swatch of damp gauze across the cut, standing so close to his side she was practically on top of him while Shemp took his hands. Confused as to why they were the ones administering first aid, he puckered his brow and tried to pull away from his 2IC. 

Shemp squeezed his hands harshly, a warning and notice. Snapping his eyes up, Jack watched the alien use his elbow to sweep his robe to the side and reveal a zat tucked away within its folds. No, two zats. Duh. He was being particularly slow on the uptake, now wasn’t he? He dismissed the self-derision, concentrating only on the fact he knew what was going on now. Casually scanning the room, he tracked and located all six of the Heptace carelessly milling around the edges of their little huddle. He grinned despite himself, smug their obliviousness was about to cost them. 

“On three, sir,” Carter whispered in his ear. He glanced at her, saw she too sported two zats, obviously hoping Daniel would be up for lending a hand as well. His smile turned grim, but he nodded as she silently mouthed one, two, thr… 

He lunged for one of Carter’s zats, letting her acquire hers first. Hissing as the daggers shot through his fingers, he worked past them and leveled the weapon at an amusingly unsuspecting Heptace. It made for the wrist control, but he rapidly fired and revolved around to take aim at another. Only to see Carter and Shemp had already dispensed with them all with conciseness he couldn’t have mastered. Obviously. All of the adrenaline seemed to seep right through his skin once it was all said and done, and he slumped against the low operating table with a great sigh. 

“Sir?” Carter was in his face, openly showing her concern now. He smiled hugely. 

“I feel I should warn you up front – I’m going to give you a really big hug right now,” he rasped, unabashedly flinging his arms around her and pulling her in closer. 

She squeaked in his ear, apparently stunned, but it only lasted a moment before she enthusiastically hugged him right back. Decorum dictated Jack should break this off; he was just so damned glad to see her alive and well. He watched Shemp nervously flitter around the room, restraining the Heptace before they regained consciousness and he sank into the warm comprehension that his and Daniel’s ordeals were over. Breathing deeply, he didn’t want to move even though he knew he had to. 

“You two should…” 

Launching away from Carter as though she were a hot potato, Jack twisted around. “Daniel!” 

“…get a room or something,” Daniel finished whispering, words slurred. He groggily opened and closed his eyes a couple of times before managing to keep them open. Darting his eyes to Carter, the younger man looked perplexed for a second, then recognition dawned. “Sam.” 

Jack found it discomfiting it had taken him a good number of minutes to discover Carter’s identity through the disguise and here Daniel woke up and had it sussed in about six seconds. Apparently drugged to the gills, even. He frowned at the bleary hollowness in the other man’s eyes, reminder that just because Carter was here didn’t mean things were okay. His 2IC ruffled Daniel’s hair, frowned slightly, then pulled away to lend Shemp a hand as if to give him time alone with the archaeologist. 

  

“Hey,” Jack said, leaning down to give the other man a brief, careful hug of his own. Daniel trembled either with residual pain or side effects from something he had been given. 

“Sir? We should go.” Okay, so maybe Carter didn’t care about giving him a minute. Pulling back, Jack was about to suggest checking Daniel out before they do anything else when Carter shook her head. “Nothing we can do here, sir. We should just keep him immobile and get him on the ship.” 

Oh. All right. He was distantly aware Carter was being a tad more domineering than she should be considering her rank in comparison with his. On the whole, though, he didn’t give a damn. She could take charge and lead them just about anywhere; he wouldn’t mind as long as it was far away from here. Worriedly giving Daniel another once over anyway, Jack scowled at how thin his friend looked, and the pinkish glow didn’t go a long way to disguise the pallid color of the face. The archaeologist was looking at him as intently as he could through the drugs the Heptace had given, though, and looked well beyond ready to go home. 

“You ready to go?” he put his thoughts to voice. The blue eyes flickered a little, losing focus before snapping into what Jack hoped was clarity. 

“Born ready.” 

~~~~~~~~ 

There were about a million half-formed questions rolling around in Daniel’s head, and he couldn’t seem to finish any of them. After a few minutes, he simply gave up trying. Conversation floated above him, words murmured too softly for him to hear, though he didn’t think it was intentional. He had no idea where he was, only that he wasn’t where he thought he should be. It was warm, wherever. Nice. Different. His last cohesive memory an auditory one, Jack bellowing in objection and anger at something. Pain! That voice _was_ pain. 

“I feel I should warn you up front – I’m going to give you a really big hug right now,” Jack tiredly said, no longer pain exemplified. The opposite. 

Wondering who Jack was talking to…not him, he didn’t think…Daniel levered his eyes open. Everything had an odd tint to it, almost rosy, and if he had had enough energy to snigger he would have, at the ludicrous thought that he had suddenly donned rose-colored glasses. Strangely enough, the world did look nice with a faintly pink edge. Letting his head list the direction he guessed Jack’s voice had come from, he discovered the other man in a very tight embrace with someone he didn’t recognize. Figures. He wouldn’t mind a hug, so Jack was giving one to a stranger. 

“You two should…” he mumbled, closing his eyes. 

“Daniel!” 

“…get a room or something.” Opening them again, he was eye to eye with Jack. Staring at Jack’s hug partner, Daniel noticed the blue skin and white hair, instantly fretting another ‘donation’ was about to be taken. More than he’d signed on for. He fearfully stared up, then the alien smiled and he recognized the dimple in her cheek. Sam? “Sam.” 

His greeting earned a bright smile and a hair ruffle; he enjoyed both. Then she was gone and Jack was on top of him in an uncharacteristic show of affection that both warmed and disturbed him. He got that hug after all…but he felt so strange. Sound became dim again and he knew something was going on that he should be aware of, but he just couldn’t focus. All Daniel knew was the other man pulled away, there were rustling noises and his head was floaty. Jack’s face reappeared above him, worry lines tracking across his forehead along with a long gash. For a second, Daniel thought his friend was going to say something really un-Jack-like and he found himself bracing for it. Odd. Shouldn’t he want words of comfort?  

“You ready to go?” 

Huh? What was Jack talking about? Go where? 

“Born ready,” Daniel said. 

Jack grinned stupidly, and he suddenly wished he understood what was going on. Wait, how did Sam get here? Teal’c? It was so hard to think. Drugged again. Sam was here; they were leaving. That was good, but he thought there was something else they had to do first. Daniel lifted his shoulders off the ground and looked around. Not on the ground, on a table. A nice, warm, pink table. Ooooh. He finally figured out where he was, a tray of tools vividly coming into focus and then fading out again. A firm pressure forced him back down. 

“This thing rolls, can we wheel him to wherever we’re going?” 

“Shouldn’t be a problem, sir. I just have to figure out how to turn off the lamps.” 

“Here.” 

Who was that? Daniel frowned and raised his head again. They were talking like he wasn’t even in the room; he hated that. Pain began filtering through the haze as he tilted his head and neck even higher, still trying to get a visual on the strange voice. Another blue guy. Not Sam. Teal’c? Nope. He found he really didn’t care. 

“Oh, thanks.” The rosy glow went away, and BlueSam pressed his head down onto the hard surface of the table. “Don’t worry, Daniel. You’re going to be fine.” 

Finally, someone was talking to him! He nodded judiciously; of course he was going to be fine. Dandy Danny. Dapper Dan. Dour Daniel. No, that one wasn’t right. He giggled anyway. 

“Do you have any idea what they might have given him?” Sam asked the BlueStranger. “He’s really…off.” 

Not so. He was Good. 

“Does it matter? Let’s just go.” 

“Sir, I think it would be a good idea to bring back a sample of whatever he’s received as a painkiller or treatment for Janet to test,” Sam wisely said. Sam was so smart, always running tests. Tests were good as long as they didn’t include him getting poked and prodded. Test what? Who cared what was in this stuff, it was miraculous. 

“No pain,” he said, and it was true. There should be pain, he remembered it. And with the remembrance, his head finally started to clear. Mastering his muscles, Daniel abruptly sat up and saw the six Heptace scattered around the room in different degrees of consciousness. Normally not one to revel in anyone else’s pain, he couldn’t stop a small smile. Served the little buggers right. Then he got confused again, because there was something not right about the situation. “What’s going on?” 

“Damnit, Daniel.” Jack latched onto his shoulder and gently pushed him down. “Please don’t move. We’re going home.” 

Jack said it as though he’d already said it many times, which he probably had. Curtailing the urge to fight against the propelling hands, Daniel looked down and gasped when he saw cuts and blood on them. They had to be hurting but Jack wasn’t showing any concern for his own pain, only Daniel’s. There _was_ no pain, though through the mask of drugs he knew he’d been given he felt a certain tenderness and pull on his right side. He consented to the pressure immediately. Answers could come later. Sam arrived at Jack’s side, both of them looking at him as if he were going to sprout wings. It had been Bad, then. 

“We’re all set, sir. We just have to set the coordinates in the control room and then we can go,” Sam said, words completely meaningless. 

“Wait, what about these things?” Jack asked, glancing down and to his right. 

The tags. They all had tags. The others. Daniel opened his mouth to make an inquiry, but both of his friends vanished before he could form the first word. Sighing, he heartily wished he could get up. The clearer his brain became, the more that particular desire cropped into his mind. He risked moving his head, happy when the effort resulted in a pretty decent view of Jack and Sam’s heads. And someone else he didn’t know. The BlueStranger. He inanely wondered where Larry and Moe were, and if this was a friend of theirs. The unknown person took what he thought was a Heptace wrist controller from Sam and pressed several buttons. He heard a couple of dull thuds and an exclamation of joy that sounded very Jack-like. Was Jack-like, the other man’s mouth still agape. 

“The others?” Daniel loudly called out at last. At least he hoped it was loudly. If a Daniel yelled and there was no one there to hear him, did he really make a sound? “What about the others?” 

Given his drugged state, Daniel was quite pleased he was being so coherent. He really hoped Jack and Sam had heard him and noted that fact. Smiling to himself as he waited for one or both of them to answer his Very Important Question, he eased his head back down. Damn, his neck muscles were jammering all over the place and his thoughts were still too scattery for his liking. Definitely had to reproduce these meds when they got back home. These were so much different from the anaesthetic – he wasn’t queasy at all. And he was actually starting to warm to the floaty head feeling. Bonus. 

“Don’t worry, Daniel. Everything’s all taken care of,” Sam said, so abruptly at his side he let out a little peep of surprise. When had she become the point person here? Not that he minded, but Jack… 

“Carter and Teal’c have it covered. You should go back to sleep.” 

Jack’s voice, but no Jack. He sounded tired. Wait, did he say Teal’c? Where was Teal’c anyway? The ceiling started moving. How strange, and not a little scary. He didn’t want to sleep anymore, he seemed to recall he’d been doing that a lot lately, but he was getting a little dizzy from watching the ceiling and lights blur. Maybe he should close his eyes for a few seconds, just a short break in the action. Was it getting colder? Daniel jerked from his break, twisting his head to see if he’d somehow been transported into a big refrigerator. Meat locker. Ewww, no. Jack and Sam wouldn’t do that to him. 

“Where are we going?” He knew, didn’t know why that question had popped out of his mouth. 

“Home, Daniel,” Jack told him, voice coming from his left. 

He stopped rolling, realizing belatedly someone had mentioned earlier the table from the operating room was on wheels. Duh. Jack finally came into view and Daniel nodded. “I know. My head is just doing strange things.” 

“Well, I’ve been saying that for years.” 

“Oh, you’re funny.” 

Elevating his head and shoulders again, Daniel expected immediate recrimination from Jack and now from Sam but got it from neither. Taking that as a sign he was improving in their estimation, he scouted his surroundings, only getting three quarters done before he had to rest. The visual exploration told him very little, but he gave himself an educated guess that they had transferred to a different ship. So, Larry and Moe had come through for them? Answers, he needed answers! 

“Looks like Larry and Moe _are_ good guys,” Jack spoke, doing that mind reading thing again. Daniel pondered whether they were good enough to take the act on the road and earn a little extra cash. “We’ll just call this the backup, backup, backup…backup plan. I think.” 

“Wouldn’t plan D be easier?” 

“Plan A for me and Teal’c,” Sam chimed in, popping her blue face over Jack’s shoulder. Daniel flinched, now realizing how disturbing it was to see her in Technicolor. He flinched harder when she reached up and yanked her hair off. No, not hair. Wig. Sighing with relief, he wavered a weak grin at her. 

“Indeed. Unlike some, I prefer to devise a plan in which success is gained in the first attempt.” 

Teal’c! They were all together again, and joking. That was a good thing. Daniel smiled, wanted to locate the last member of the team, but found himself unable to keep his eyes open. Despite that he’d presumably done an excessive amount of sleeping in the past several hours, he thought he didn’t want to do anything but right now. His stomach growled, and he added getting food to his list of things to do. Food would be good, better than sleep. If donor patients were allowed to eat. Sam might know that. 

“Daniel?” 

Odd, he couldn’t tell who had said that, and when he peered up all three of his teammates had nearly identical expressions. Any one of them could have said it. Except that wasn’t right, Teal’c wouldn’t call him Daniel. He just nodded to indicate he’d heard, that he was okay. Sam rubbed a thick cloth across her cheeks to remove the blue makeup as she brought her face almost atop his. The effect was downright grotesque, half her face streaked blue, the other peach. Still, she started to look more like herself and that was a comfort. Frowning, Daniel saw a deep mark covering her right cheekbone, and he coerced a hand up to touch it. 

“Hey, Daniel,” she said as if this was the first time she was really seeing him. True. She pulled slightly away from his touch. “Sir, I think he’s finally breaking through the drugs; his eyes are much clearer. We should get some liquid into him. You, too.” 

Euch. Liquid meant sugar water and no food. Sam kept on, referring to low glucose levels as being a factor in his sluggishness, but he didn’t really listen. It really didn’t matter to him what was making him so damn tired, he just knew he was again. Still. There was a huge inventory of side effects, ‘what ifs’, ‘could bes’ and ‘he’s still not out of the woods yets’ flowing from Sam’s mouth and into his ears but not into his brain. Daniel knew she only needed to say these things to relieve some of her own worry, so everyone let her. He didn’t need to hear it; he was living it. Living being the key word. 

What he _did_ need was to find Jack, though he couldn’t really say why. He winced in unhappy anticipation as Sam wrapped up her litany of medical gabble, lifting a container of glucose-saturated water. Fortified Tang. Kool-Aid with an extra kick. Nasty. Bolstering himself and his stomach for the onslaught of syrupy stuff, Daniel tried to bring his shoulders off the table. Two sets of hands gently lifted his shoulders, and something soft was tucked in behind his back, putting him at a twenty or so degree angle. High enough to see, low enough not to hurt. Good, they were going to let him drink on his own. That made the task far less deplorable, somehow. 

“Here, Carter. I’ll take that.” 

Jack commandeered the Big Gulp from Sam, giving the now obvious bruise on her face a scowl. Shrugging it off as if it were unimportant, she let go the cup and looked at Daniel. He blinked at her stupidly, blinked again as Teal’c took up position at her left. Taking a sip from the cup, Jack made a sour face and stuck his tongue out. Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, bringing his shoulders further up as he curled over. All three of his teammates lunged for him, straightening him out with lightning speed. Okay, so he must look like shit then. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” He didn’t even convince himself, his voice wan at best. 

“Hmm, where have I heard that before?” Jack growled, wiping off his arm with a bandaged hand. Some of the drink must have spilled, and Daniel suddenly felt something sticky and cold on the left side of his stomach. Gross. 

“Should you be doing that?” Daniel tiredly asked, highlighting Jack’s actions to Sam and hoping she would rise to the occasion. Get the attention off him for a little while. 

Sam shot the older man a warning look, sighing deeply as he soiled fresh bandages with no regard. Scowl furrowing deep lines on his face, Jack’s expression promised severe retribution but Daniel just smiled ingenuously. At least that’s what he was going for, though Jack almost cringed in return. The other man lifted a cloth-covered hand to stop Sam from encroaching on his personal space, and to Daniel’s surprise she backed off immediately. Murmuring something to Teal’c and Sam in a voice too low for him to hear, Jack waved his free hand again. Reaching out, Sam squeezed his ankle right where the box had been. Daniel fought not to pull his leg away. 

“It is good to see you both,” Teal’c imparted, not for the first time. Oh, he had been really worried. 

Daniel smiled at the conspicuously missing ‘well’ in Teal’c’s sentiment and inadequately said, “You, too.” 

There were so many things he wanted to know, the million questions flying back to into his mind and plus additional ones about Sam and Teal’c, how they’d come to find him and Jack. They only made his head hurt and he figured he’d learn everything in due time, so he ignored them. Actually, his whole body was starting to ache again, which he supposed was to be expected. Daniel wasn’t sure if he preferred the fogged stupor of pain medication or clarity and tenderness. Either way, he figured he wouldn’t be receiving any type of aid until Doctor Fraiser had the opportunity to examine him. She was not going to be happy. 

Home. They were going home. The realization hit him with startling suddenness and for some reason made him shiver. No, it was a resurgence of cold making him shiver and he stared at his bare torso accusingly. Almost forgetting his friends were there, Daniel wrapped his arms around his chest and closed his eyes. A cool heaviness on his forehead pulled him back, Sam’s worried face insinuated so closely he couldn’t see anything else. That bruise was spectacular. He wobbled his head beneath her touch, and she smiled in return 

“You’ve still got fever. How do you feel otherwise?” 

“Okay. Sore, tired,” he admitted, not bothering to minimize the truth too much. She’d see through it, anyway.  “Nothing too bad, really.” 

“You should drink this, then get some sleep,” Sam suggested, reaching around to grab the Cup o’ Gloop from Jack. 

He cringed, and then sighed in resignation of his fate. Sam stayed turned away from him for a long time, spinning back empty handed. Planting a kiss on his cheek, she gave his shoulder a squeeze before moving away. Oddly embarrassed by the gestures she had given him on several occasions before, Daniel ducked his head and realized it was because she had never done them with Jack or Teal’c present. Funny how comfort and affection were easier to accept when given in relative privacy. 

When he looked up again, Sam and Teal’c had mysteriously departed the area. Not so mysteriously. Jack stood by the table, cup in one hand and something thick and fuzzy in the other. The other man silently set the cup at his right elbow, then unfolded the other object…a blanket and draped it over him. The effect was immediate, and he was grateful for the warmth it provided. Maintaining the silence, Jack leaned down and messed with something behind him for a moment. Daniel figured out it was a cot only when his friend sat down on it with a huge sigh of relief. 

Upon closer inspection, he discovered Jack looked extremely ragged. Thin, stubbled cheeks, dark circles under the eyes, defined lines on his face. Old. Daniel frowned, not knowing if the worn look was from this ordeal alone or if it had been encroaching upon his friend for years. If it had been years, he had missed it. That might very well be the case, he thought with a pang of guilt as he instantly wondered how much of that had resulted from him. From his arguments with Jack. 

“Here you go,” Jack said, extending the cup. Daniel grappled an arm out of the blanket, taking it with a grimace. “Suck it up, Daniel. Wuss.” 

Wuss? Wuss?? The comment rankled him enough to gulp down several long swallows, which his stomach immediately rebelled against. Breathing deeply, Daniel controlled the uprising and realized Jack had pushed his buttons on purpose. 

“Jerk,” he choked out. 

Jack laughed and it sounded good; genuine for the first time in a long while. The older man snagged the cup from his hand and took several of his own swigs, hand trembling just slightly. Frowning at that and at the tint of dark brown coloring the tips of the gauze-mittened fingers, Daniel wanted to ask what had happened. He was pretty sure he could guess. 

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked instead, at the very moment Jack voiced the same question. 

Smiling, Daniel knew he was. _They_ were. 

~~~~~~~~ 

“Sir?” 

Jack jumped at the intrusion of the quietude, blinking a couple of times. The action caused his eyes to water and he was quite sure it had been several minutes since Daniel had given him a strange grimace, then passed out. Instead of moving to check on his friend the way his speeding heartbeat had suggested, he’d frozen in place and just unblinkingly stared at the unconscious man. He heard common sense yelling at him to get off his hands, to at least call out for help, but something wouldn’t let him. Fear, shock, exhaustion? Carter’s voice jolted him more painfully than the Heptace shock boxes. 

Leaping to his feet, he let out a garbled and pretty unintelligent, “What?” 

“Are you okay, sir? Is Daniel…” Carter worriedly pushed by him and hovered over Daniel. He elbowed his way next to her while she tested the usuals – pulse, temperature, pupils. Relaxed when her shoulders slumped and she exhaled. “He’s okay, just sleeping.” 

Saying Daniel was okay was about as inaccurate a statement as Jack could think of. Carter had just given an astonishingly comprehensive list of complications that could still arise for the younger man, impediments to his recovery. He didn’t want to consider any of them, or how she had so readily known all that stuff but knew avoiding it wouldn’t make it less real. His friend’s body had been subjected to a huge trauma, and his early assessment that no one could endure losing part of a liver without some heavy repercussions still held true. It didn’t matter how the Heptace had apparently already sped up the healing process and the fact the liver was a regenerative organ. All Jack knew is Daniel looked like hell. 

“He’s far from okay, Carter,” he whispered. 

Daniel’s screams of agony still haunted the back of his mind, a reminder he didn’t think would go away for a long, long time. Long after his friend was up and mobile again. He stared at the other man’s lax face, corners of the mouth tipped up slightly. They’d just asked each other if they were going to be all right, had that grimace been an attempted smile? He thought it might just have been. 

“But he will be. Fine.” 

Sinking back down onto the cot as exhaustion surged, Jack rested an arm on Daniel’s provisional bed and pressed his forehead into it. One of his many aches made itself quite apparent and he turned his head to the side to alleviate it, peering up at Carter tiredly. She stared back down at him, saying nothing more. He’d learned all he needed to about how worried she’d been when she’d put everything she had into hugging him. As soon as Daniel was well enough, she’d likely put the squeeze on him, too. He didn’t plan on warning the archaeologist. Payback for the number of years he’d lost over the past…how long? 

“God, this has been the longest week ever.” 

A week? That couldn’t be right. Eyebrows pitching up and crinkling his scratched forehead, Jack grunted his confused dissension. Rustling behind him grabbed his attention before he could give actual voice. Teal’c solemnly held out another cup, which he took without complaint. A week. No wonder Daniel looked like crap. He had a sneaking suspicion he was only a notch above crap himself, especially when he recalled the way Daniel – _Daniel of the involuntary liver donations_ – had stared at him with blatant concern just a couple of minutes ago. Swallowing the thick liquid, he coughed. 

“It took you guys a week? Plan A took a week?” Jack spluttered. Damn, he hadn’t meant that as indignant but Carter’s gasp told him he’d struck an understandably sharp chord. Scrambling to recover, he set the half full cup down. “I guess perfection does take time.” 

Lame. 

“We encountered several difficulties, O’Neill,” Teal’c rumbled. 

With Teal’c’s propensity to understate the obvious, Jack figured they had quite a tale to tell. For now, he was just damn glad they had shown up when they did, that they were all right. Still, the comment made him take a closer examination. Aside from the vibrant bruise on Carter’s cheek, he detected several more peeking from the sleeves of the T-shirt she’d changed into. Wasn’t hard to divine more were hidden beneath her clothes. Teal’c wasn’t showing any external injuries, which didn’t mean he hadn’t had any. His weariness, however, was alarmingly obvious. Looked like they all were in the same boat on that point. 

“But we can tell you more later, when we get home,” Carter determined, sharing a long look with Teal’c. “Let’s just say we would have been toast if your friends hadn’t shown up when they did.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes; she meant that quite literally. Shuddering involuntarily, he imagined running into a fully limbed, healthy and pissed off Blinkin’. The critter had been small but well put together, could have been a contender if he had been well. He had assumed the entire race to be as benevolent as his and Daniel’s prison buddy, apparently a foolish and naïve thought. Carter and Teal’c clearly didn’t think here and now was the best place to discuss their own adventures, nor had they pressed him for details. That was more than okay with him. 

“Where are Larry, Moe and Curly, by the way?” He’d meant to ask that a while ago. Jack owed them a huge thanks, along with Winkin, Blinkin’ and Nod. He hoped he’d get the chance with both groups of aliens. 

“Larry, Moe and Curly?” 

“Oh, don’t tell me they told you their real names? Where’s the fairness in that?” 

“If you are referring to the aliens for whom Daniel Jackson was forced to give up a significant portion of his internal anatomy, they were…unable to join us,” Teal’c stated with a definite undertone of distaste. 

“Little misunderstanding, sir. Recoverable, though.” Carter widened her eyes at Teal’c in a completely transparent signal to shut up. “They’d make good allies.” 

Putting himself in Teal’c’s place, he probably wouldn’t have reacted favorably to the story Larry and Moe had spun for them either. Jack nodded in appreciation and understanding, getting a small head tilt in return. He took one more swallow of the energy drink – fortified Tang, Kool-Aid with an extra kick was more like it – and fumbled the cup between his swathed hands, spilling some of it and not caring as he watched Daniel’s sleeping form. He was going to be okay; both of them were. Recovery was going to take a while and there were likely to be setbacks, but Jack was confident all would be well. A feeling of peace stole through him, making him languorous. His eyelids drooped as the last dregs of adrenaline burned off. Not even the extra sugar in his system could prevent a crash, and he knew it was coming sooner rather than later. 

“Good. They really are decent guys,” Jack mumbled. “Shemp seems nice, too.” 

“He is, sir,” Carter whispered. He heard the smile in her voice. “They all are.” 

Then someone was taking the mug from his hands and guiding him onto his back, his body apparently too tired to do even that. There seemed to be cotton in his ears, because he heard Carter and Teal’c speaking but everything was oddly stifled and too deep. He wanted to tell them to go get some sleep; opening his mouth resulted in a yawn. Something thick, heavy and warm was spread over him and he receded further into the sleep state. Hearing their footsteps fade, Jack kept himself floating halfway between wake and sleep until he couldn’t hear them anymore. He puzzled their departure for a moment, then figured they wanted to give him and Daniel quiet. That’s what they needed. Soft, relaxing, peaceful sleep. Nothing could possibly stop him from attaining that. Nothing… 

“Jack?” 

Unlike earlier, his reaction was bang on. He threw off the blanket and was up at Daniel’s side before his eyes were fully open. Daniel’s, however, were not. Shoving his heart back into its rightful place in his chest, Jack quietly snorted with relief. He was apparently hearing things now. The other man was still sleeping; he was fine. Still, though. Covertly glancing around to make sure they were still alone, he raised his left hand and cupped Daniel’s cheek. Just making sure. Blue eyes opened at the touch, and he jerked his hand back as if he had just burned himself. 

Daniel puffed out a laughing breath. “Yeah.” 

“Jeez, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Jack grumbled, looking away as he felt his face turn red at being caught in the act. He didn’t know what Daniel was yeah-ing.  

“Pretty much.” 

Snapping his eyes back at the cheeky answer, he caught a glimpse of pure understanding crossing Daniel’s features. He’d been played just as he’d only minutes ago played his friend. And everything _was_ okay. He had to keep reminding himself of that. 

“Jerk,” Jack scoffed. 

As they fell into comfortable silence, Jack weaved on his feet. Daniel scowled at him so he nodded and collapsed back on the cot, tucking the blanket all the way up to his neck. He was getting way too easy in his old age, letting his subordinates boss him around. Staring at the ceiling, he found himself unable to regain the same level of relaxation he’d just managed. He rolled over onto his side, facing Daniel’s bed. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Daniel whispered, voice hoarse and dry. 

“Again? When?” Jack asked in disbelief, studying his friend’s pale face. 

“I’m guessing Sam and Teal’c only dealt with one ship and its captives, right?” 

“Yeah, as far as I know.” 

“Larry and Moe said the Heptace were highly skilled in their trade – which, by the way, I’m having a hard time believing.” Daniel cringed and lightly touched his side. Jack frowned, raising himself up on one elbow. The other man quickly dismissed, “No, I’m okay. I think if we offer them some kind of alternative, they might be willing to give up the kidnapping and black market selling.” 

“Right. Because they’re so kind and generous,” Jack growled, flopping back down. Leave it to Daniel. “They’re in it for the money, nothing more. What could possibly sway them to reform their ways?”  
  


“Reason, maybe? I think Larry and Moe’s people are already well on their way to handling the situation, but they might need some help. Think about it – the Heptace are skilled surgeons. Their services could be used at a hospital setting. If the price is right, they might go for it.” 

“True. But are they worth the effort?” 

“How can you say that?” 

“I can say that because they freaking trapped, drugged, poked, prodded, sliced up, electrocuted and generally maltreated us, Daniel, and who knows how many others. I honestly don’t care if Larry, Moe and company wipe them out of the galaxy. They’re scavengers, bottom feeders. Right now, I’d strongly back that course of action,” he snapped, irritation shining through. He had no idea where Daniel was getting his energy or his motivation, but it was damn exasperating.  

“Jack –” 

“Daniel, look. Can we not do this here, now?” Jack pleaded, not even caring he sounded pathetically tired. “I’m not telling you you’re wrong but I’m far from telling you you’re right. And at this particular moment in time, I just can’t think about all this. My perspective is a little skewed, and frankly I don’t know why yours isn’t, too. Give it a rest. Give _me_ a rest until we get back home, okay?” 

Whoa. That was more than he’d planned on saying. Daniel was abnormally silent, the air around them no longer companionable. God, he’d thought they’d come so far and instead they’d ended up right where they’d started. Something must be pressing on his shoulders, because suddenly they felt heavy. Jack swallowed and closed his eyes, sore fingertips throbbing in beat with the blood rapidly flowing through his body in a very real reminder of their ordeal. Which wasn’t over yet. 

“I’m not saying we forgive and forget, Jack,” Daniel finally spoke. Looking up, he found the younger man gazing intently and worriedly at him. “Just not advocate genocide. We’ve barely been wronged by the Heptace, _and_ we don’t know the circumstances which led them to their chosen path.” 

Barely been wronged. Jack disagreed wholeheartedly with that assessment but he had to admit the rest of what the other man said did make a certain amount of sense. Daniel was just being Daniel, as he always had and would continue to do.   

“But, yes, it can wait.” 

Startled by the concession, Jack stared into tired blue eyes. He saw vestiges of pain lingering below the surface, and amidst that was more understanding. The weight on his shoulders lifted with the knowledge that in all this bad, something good really had survived. Daniel closed his eyes, breath immediately evening out into sleep. Jack watched him for a few minutes, thankfully feeling his own body finally giving up its tension. Perhaps he and Daniel would always play each other’s devil’s advocate, but he found that quite acceptable. Essential, even. Without the checks and balances each provided, the team would suffer. Their friendship might suffer. And with this understanding, Jack realized he could very much live with the occasional minor flares of irritation as long as he could still count Daniel Jackson a friend. 

“Sir, is everything okay back here?” Carter reappeared, standing quietly between him and Daniel. 

“Everything’s fine, Carter. It’s good,” Jack murmured, and fell into restful sleep at last. 

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> Author's Notes: This would not be what it is without the input and encouragement from Lex, Sanna and Kaz. Thanks, ladies! Breaking from my customary team-fic style, I’ve focused solely on Jack and Daniel here, just to see if I could.  
> 

* * *

> © November, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
>  The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
>  who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,  
>  titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.  
> 

* * *

  



End file.
